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LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 


+JEL-NE1* 

AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP 

WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF 


FOURTH  REVISED  EDITION 


COPYRIGHT  1910 
BY 

THE  A-No.  1 PUBLISHING  CO. 

AH  the  subject  matter,  as  well  as  the  illustrations  contained  in  this  book  are  fully  pro- 
tected by  copyright,  and  their  use  in  any  form  whatsoever  will  be 
vigorously  prosecuted  for  Infringement. 


THE) 

PUBLISHING  OO. 

CAMBRIDGE  SPRINGS 
PENNSYLVANIA  U.  S.  A. 


To  Restless  Young  Men  and  Boys 

Who  Read  this  Book,  the  Author,  who  Has  Led  for  Over 
a Quarter  of  a Century  the  Pitifully  Hard  and 
Dangerous  Life  of  a Tramp,  gives  this 
Well-meant  Advice: 

a 

DO  NOT  JUMP  ON  MOVING  TRAINS,  even  if  only 
to  ride  to  the  next  street  crossing,  because  this 
might  arouse  the  “wanderlust,”  besides  endan- 
gering needlessly  your  life  and  limbs. 

Wandering,  once  it  becomes  a habit,  is  almost  incur- 
able, so  NEVER  RUN  AWAY,  but  STAY  AT  HOME,  as  a 
roving  lad  usually  ends  in  becoming  a confirmed  tramp. 

There  is  a dark  side  to  a tramp’s  life : — -for  every  mile 
stolen  on  trains  there  is  one  escape  from  a horrible  death ; 
for  each  mile  of  beautiful  scenery  and  food  in  plenty, 
there  are  many  weary  miles  of  hard  walking  with  no  food 
or  even  water— through  mountain  gorges  and  over  parched 
deserts ; for  each  warm  summer  night,  there  are  ten  bitter, 
cold,  long  winter  nights;  for  every  kindness,  there  are  a 
score  of  unfriendly  acts. 

A tramp  is- constantly  hounded  by  the  minions  of  the 
law;  is  shunned  by  all  humanity,  and  never  knows  the 
meaning  of  home  and  friends. 

To  tell  the  truth,  it  is  a pitiful  existence  all  the  way 
through,  and  what  is  the  end? 

It  is  an  even  ninety-nine  chances  out  of  a hundred 
that  the  end  will  be  a miserable  one — an  accident,  an 
alms-house,  but  surely  an  un-marked  pauper’s  grave. 


Preface. 


PERHAPS  some  may  think  that  a man  who  has 
attained  only  the  age  of  thirty-eight  years  has 
hardly  enough  accrued  experience  to  justify 
him  in  writing  an  autobiography,  but  as  I look  back 
over  the  crowded  years  since  I first  became  a tramp, 
I feel  that  the  thousand  and  one  odd  and  peculiar 
experiences  (such  as  never  fall  to  the  lot  of  the 
ordinary  mortal  who  is  anchored  in  the  city,  village 
or  country)  will  justify  publication. 

Were  other  men  of  my  age  to  write  their  life’s 
story,  it  could  ordinarily  be  summed  up  with  Caesari- 
an brevity:  “I  was  born;  I learned  a trade,  and  I 
am  beginning  to  have  money  in  the  bank.”  But 
for  a man  who  has  been  wandering  since  his  eleventh 
year,  and  has  been  leading  the  life  of  a tramp,  to  try 
and  tell  his  experiences,  is  quite  a different  under- 
taking. 

I wish  the  readers  of  this  book,  especially  those 
who  are  personally  acquainted  with  me,  would  re- 
member that  this  is  the  true  story  of  a blasted  life, 
and  I hope  that  these  friends  will  not  lose  their  good 
will  towards  me,  as  I will  tell  only  the  exact  truth 
of  my  past  existence. 

I might  mention  that  many  pages  of  this  book 
have  been  written  while  the  author  was  in  transit 
from  place  to  place,  in  jolting,  rattling  box-cars. 

To  those  interested  in  the  eUmination  of  the 
tramp  and  his  restoration  to  the  respected  membership 
of  society,  I would  call  attention  to  Chapter  XII  on 
page  63:  “Why  Permit  Men  to  Become  Tramps?” 
In  which  chapter  I advocate  an  effective  and  almost 
expenseless  solution  of  the  tramp  problem. 

This  book  is  filled  with  funny  adventures,  as 
well  as  sad  features,  and  I beg  my  readers  to  re- 
member that  a person  cannot  be  a tramp  and  an 
angel  at  the  same  time. 

Yours  truly, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


Contents, 


Chapter  Page 

I  Leaving  Home . 5 

II  Going  to  Sea 13 

III  Deserting  the  Ship . 16 

IV  In  a Tropical  Mahogany  Camp 20 

V Tramping  Through  Central  America ...  25 

VI  In  Partnership  with  a Burglar 32 

VII  Tramping  Overland  to  Florida 39 

VIII  Why  I was  Called  “A-No.  1” . . 44 

✓ 

IX  Tramping  in  Europe 49 

X A Homeless  Outcast 57 

XI  Robbed  by  Tramps 60 

XII  Why  Permit  Men  to  Become  Tramps?  63 

XIII  Trying  to  Reform 74 

XIV  Charity  Up-to-Date 78 

XV  Beating  It  to  South  America 91 

XVI  Tramping  Across  South  America 97 

XVII  Tramping  to  the  Klondike 119 

XVIII  Conclusion 136 


Chapter  I. 

“Leaving  Home.” 

I WAS  born  on  the  24th  day  of  August,  1872,  ii^ 
San  Francisco,  California,  where  my  parents, 
respected  and  well-to-do  residents,  owned  a 
pretty  home.  To  outline  the  history  of  my  childhood 
would  be  trying  to  my  readers,  at  it  differed  in  no 
material  respect  from  that  of  any  other  boy,  petted 
and  cherished  as  an  only  child.  At  six  I was  sent  to 
school.  At  eight  I could  speak  fluently  three  lan- 
guages— my  father  being  a Frenchman  and  my 
mother  a German,  they  taught  me  their  mother 
tongues.  To  these  I added  Spanish  later  in  years, 
making  four  languages  that  I speak  at  present. 

Years  rolled  by,  and  everything  seemed  to  point 
to  a future  as  bright  as  any  fond  parents  could  desire 
for  the  boy  who  was  the  idol  of  their  hearts. 

Then  came  the  turning  point  in  my  life.  I 
passed  my  eleventh  birthday  and  received  many 
presents — toys,  books,  everything  a boy  could  wish. 
A one  hundred  franc  note  came  from  an  uncle  in 
Paris,  and  father  told  me  it  was  worth  twenty  dollars 
in  any  bank. 

The  next  day  I was  sent  home  from  school  for 
ill-behavior  and  entrusted  with  a note  from  my 
teacher,  which  I was  directed  to  give  my  father  for 
his  signature  thereon.  To  return  home  in  disgrace 
the  day  after  my  birthday,  when  I had  received  the 
tokens  of  love  and  made  resolutions  and  promises  to 


6 LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

do  right,  was  discouraging.  It  hurt  my  sense  of 
manliness  and  pride,  even  though  I was  but  a boy. 
I loitered  about  the  streets  until  the  regular  hour  for 
returning  home,  and  then  decided  to  wait  until  morn- 
ing to  present  the  note,  with  its  story  of  my  wilfulness 
to  my  father.  I was  standing  at  an  upstairs  window 
thinking  about  my  troubles,  which  seemed  very 
great  to  my  childish  mind,  when  I saw  my  teacher 
approaching  the  house.  Surmising  the  object  of  his 
mission,  I stole  quietly  into  my  mother’s  room  and 
secured  her  purse,  which  contained  twenty-eight 
dollars  and  my  one  hundred  franc  note.  Then  I 
ran  to  my  own  room,  caught  up  my  twenty-two 
caliber  rifle,  ran  down  the  back  stairs  and  out  of  the 
rear  door,  scaled  the  high  fence  and  dropped  into  the 
alley  outside.  Then  with  all  speed  I ran  to  the  har- 
bor and  arrived  there  just  in  time  to  board  a river- 
steamboat  bound  forCalifomia’s  capital,  Sacramento. 

Next  morning  on  arriving  there,  hotel  hacks  of 
all  kinds  were  waiting  at  the  landing  stage.  I se- 
lected the  prettiest  painted  one,  whose  porter  shout- 
ed the  loudest:  “ Golden  Eagle  Hotel!  Come  to  the 
Golden  Eagle!”  It  surely  was  a fine  place — the 
Golden  Eagle  Hotel.  The  clerk  asked  me : “ Sonny 
do  you  want  a room  with  a bath?” 

“ Of  course,”  I said. 

My!  what  fine,  fancy  food  they  served  there, 
and  the  waiters  were  the  blackest  Congo  “niggers”  I 
ever  saw.  I remained  there  four  days,  and  would 
have  been  content  to  stay  on  indefinitely  if  some- 
body had  not  told  me  there  were  bears  to  hunt  in  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  eighty  miles  east. 

I went  to  the  clerk  and  asked  for  my  bill — twen- 
ty dollars  for  four  days ! At  five  dollars  per  diem,  and 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp, 


7 


8 Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

one  dollar  additional  for  the  ride  in  the  hack  from 
the  landing-stage  to  the  hotel.  Only  then  I found 
that  I had  stopped  at  the  highest  priced  hotel  on  the 
Pacific  Coast. 

I remember  that  I paid  my  bill  with  apparent 
unconcern,  but  there  was  a queer  little  homesick 
feeling  in, my  heart  as  I realized  that  I had  only  a 
few  dollars  left.  I decided  to  convert  the  one  hun- 
dred franc  note  into  cash  and  entered  a bank  for  that 
purpose.  As  I stepped'  up  to  the  cashier’s  window 
he  gave  me  a keen  glance  and  said : “ Sonny,  where 
did  you  get  this  bill?” 

My  throat  filled  up,  and  I felt  the  smart  of  tears 
in  my  eyes,  but  I found  my  voice  to  answer:  “ From 
my  pa.” 

“Where  is  your  pa?”  said  he. 

“ Oh,  he  is  out  here,  and  I will  go  and  fetch  him,” 
I answered. 

I caught  up  my  little  rifle  and  walked  out  of  the 
door,  not  to  find  my  father,  but  to  run  with  all  haste 
to  the  depot,  leaving  my  note  behind.  I was  too 
scared  to  wait  for  a train,  being  afraid  of  arrest.  So 
after  making  inquiries  I walked  out  of  Sacramento 
on  the  tracks  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad,  and 
it  was  seventeen  long  miles  east  before  I reached  a 
station,  and  there,  with  the  money  I still  possessed, 
I purchased  a ticket  to  a small  place  called  Colfax. 
I remember  that  in  conversation  with  the  agent  I 
told  him  my  parents  were  dead,  and  that  I was  going 
to  make  my  way  to  Chicago  to  find  an  uncle.  So, 
with  my  rifle,  a small  box  of  cartridges  and  a little 
lunch  the  kind  agent  gave  me,  I left  on  the  next  train . 

I arrived  at  Colfax  late  in  the  afternoon,  abso- 
lutely penniless,  but  resolutely  I swung  my  little 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


9 


rifle  over  my  shoulder  and  walked  out  of  the  town 
headed  East,  where  before  me  towered  the  gigantic 
snow  covered  peaks  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.  Three 
miles  from  Colfax  all  trains  took  on  water  from  a 
tank,  and  I arrived  there  just  as  a train  rumbled  in 
view.  It  came  to  a stop  and  a brakeman  looking  for 
hobos  and  hot  boxes  asked  me  what  I was  doing.  I 
told  him  the  same  story  I told  the  ticket  agent. 
“Say,  kid,”  he  said,  “climb  on  the  bumper  and  give 
me  your  rifle  for  the  ride  to  Truckee,  California.”  I 
was  more  than  glad  to  make  the  trade  with  him,  and 
then  took  my  first  unlawful  ride.  We  had  two 
engines  ahead  and  two  pushing  behind  going  up  the 
Sierra  Nevada  from  an  elevation  at  Colfax  of  1000 
feet  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain  range,  7700  feet 
above  the  sea  level.  Every  twenty  miles  I helped 
to  load  wood  on  the  tender  of  the  engine — wood  be- 
ing used  in  those  days  all  over  the  West  as  fuel.  It 
took  twelve  hours  for  the  train  to  reach  Truckee, 
where  I arrived  after  midnight.  Going  up  the  track 
alongside  the  train  I met  the  brakeman  once  more. 

. “Kid,”  said  he,  “did  you  have  your  supper?” 

“No,”  I replied. 

He  gave  me  all  he  had  left  in  his  dinner  pail, 
and  hardly  had  I finished  the  remains  of  his  lunch 
when  the  Overland  Limited  came  to  a stop  in  front  of 
the  depot.  The  brakeman  took  me  to  a tourist 
sleeper,  and  while  the  porter  was  not  watching,  hid 
me  under  one  of  the  berths  and  I dropped  asleep — 
this  is  how  I beat  my  first  passenger  train. 

In  the  morning  I was  discovered  and  was  put  off 
the  train  at  Winnemucca,  Nevada,  450  miles  from 
San  Francisco,  in  a desert. 


io  life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

Winnemucca,  in  those  days,  was  the  largest 
town  between  Sacramento  and  Ogden,  Utah.  It  con- 
sisted of  a few  Mexican  “ Dobee  ” houses,  built  of  dried 
clay  and  brick,  and  almost  all  were  either  saloons  or 
gambling  houses.  I was  dead  broke  and  hungry.  I 
had  passed  the  few  years  of  my  life  in  a home  of  cul- 
ture, surrounded  by  tropical  vegetation  and  hand- 
some residences.  Here  in  the  dreary  desert  town  I 
lost  my  courage.  I was  bitterly  homesick.  The 
station  agent’s  wife  spied  me  as  I sat  on  the  platform 
with  the  tears  running  down  my  cheeks.  Her 
woman’s  heart  responded  to  the  sight  of  a nicely 
dressed  small  boy  in  trouble,  and  she  came  to  me 
and  asked  me  if  I was  hungry.  I nodded  my  head, 
I could  not  speak.  She  invited  me  up  into  her  home 
which  was  over  the  depot.  When  she  had  placed  a 
good  warm  meal  before  me,  I started  to  tell  her  the 
whole  truth,  about  my  leaving  home  and  how  I came 
to  be  in  that  lonely  place. 

“Hush,  child,”  she  said,  “You  are  half  starved. 
Talk  after  you  eat.” 

Courage  came  with  the  food.  When  I had 
finished  my  meal,  instead  of  telling  her  the  truth,  I 
related  my  manufactured  story,  the  one  I told  the 
ticket  agent  in  California.  This  was  the  third  time 
I had  told  it,  the  story  of  how  my  parents  died,  and 
how  I was  trying  to  reach  my  uncle  in  Chicago.  I 
must  have  improved  wonderfully  in  lying,  for  she 
began  crying  and  lamenting  the  hardships  of  my 
young  life.  She  took  me  down  stairs  to  her  husband, 
the  agent,  and  I had  to  repeat  the  old  yam  over 
again.  He,  too,  was  kind  hearted,  and  after  asking 
me  a lot  of  questions,  told  me  to  return  for  supper 
and  stay  at  their  home  over  night. 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


u 


While  I was  dreaming  that  night  about  all  that 
had  happened  to  me  thus  far,  the  kind-hearted  agent 
and  his  wife  went  among  their  friends  in  the  town 
and  collected  money  to  send  me  farther  East.  Next 
morning  after  breakfast  they  gave  me  a ticket  to 
Omaha,  Nebraska,  and  five  dollars  for  expenses. 
Half  the  town  was  down  to  the  depot  to  see  the 
“Poor  little  Orphan  Boy”  leave  Winnemucca. 

In  those  days  trains  covered  only  six  hundred 
miles  every  twenty-four  hours,  and  it  took  three 
days  for  me  to  reach  Omaha.  The  Overland  Limited 
races  now-a-days  thousand  miles  a day,  and  it  takes 
less  than  forty-eight  hours  to  cover  the  same  distance. 

Arriving  in  Omaha  I tried  to  find  a job,  but  was 
refused  everywhere,  being  too  small  to  work  even  for 
my  board,  and  meeting  with  unkindliness  and  re- 
buke, I resolved  there  and  then  to  hustle  about  with- 
out employment,  as  I had  an  idea  that  this  world 
owed  me,  a living,  work  or  no  work. 

That  afternoon  I managed  to  hide  myself  among 
the  sheep  in  a fast  stock  train  bound  for  Chicago, 
where  I arrived  next  morning.  The  little  money  I 
had  left  was  soon  spent,  and  by  sneaking  into  saloons 
and  helping  myself  at  the  free  lunch  counter,  I 
managed  to  live  quite  well.  For  lodging  I crawled, 
after  dark,  under  the  bushes  in  the  public  parks, 
where  other  homeless  people  and  stray  dogs  were 
my  bed-fellows.  I was  forced  to  associate  with  the 
off-spring  of  the  slums,  and  quickly  forgot  the  refined 
English  used  in  conversation  at  home,  and  in  its 
stead  acquired  the  argot  of  the  toughs. 

Towards  the  end  of  October,  the  nights  began 
to  get  frosty,  and  having  heard  so  much  about  the 
Sunny  South,  I caught  a freight  train  on  the  Illinois 


12  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

Central,  bound  for  New  Orleans.  Once  on  this  trip 
a kind-hearted  engineer  gave  me  fifty  cents,  but 
instead  of  buying  something  useful,  boy  fashion,  I 
purchased  candy,  chewing  gum  and  peanuts. 

Between  Chicago  and  New  Orleans  four  different 
families  wanted  to  adopt  me.  At  Tangipahoa, 
Louisiana,  I had  to  climb  out  of  a window  to  get  away 
from  a widow  who  wanted  to  adopt  me  as  a son.  I 
did  not  mind  the  'adoption  part,  but  she  had  fat 
pork  and  turnip  greens  three  times  a day  regular, 
and  also  wanted  me  to  pick  cotton  from  sun  up  until 
after  sun  down,  so  there  was  little  temptation  for 
me  to  stay  with  her. 

I arrived  in  New  Orleans  on  Christmas  Day,  1883, 
a sight  to  look  at.  I was  dirty  and  ragged  to  the 
last  degree,  with  toes  sticking  out  of  my  shoes.  But 
the  climate  was  fine,  and  there  was  plenty  to  eat, 
such  as  it  was.  By  stealing  bread  from  the  house 
fronts,  left  by  the  bakers  in  the  early  morning,  and 
by  cleaning  milk  and  cream  pitchers,  and  dipping 
this  bread  into  the  molasses  leaking  from  syrup 
barrels  piled  upon  the  wharves,  I managed  to  live. 
For  lodging  at  night  I crawled  under  the  tarpaulins 
covering  the  cotton  bales  stored  on  the  wharves. 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


13 


Chapter  II. 

“ Going  to  Sea.” 

ALL  went  fine  for  a week.buton  New  Year’s  Day, 
1884,  while  strolling  along  the  wharves,  I spied 
a large  steamer  just  arrived  from  Cuba  unload- 
ing bananas.  Ropes  were  stretched  to  keep  people  from 
interfering  with  the  laborers  employed  in  the  trans- 
fer of  the  fruit  from  the  ship  to  the  railroad  cars.  A 
ripe  banana  dropped  out  of  a bunch,  and  as  I was 
hungry,  it  only  took  a second  for  me  to  dart  under 
the  rope  and  grab  the  fruit.  A watchman  employed 
by  the  company  for  just  such  offenders,  caught  me 
and  started  from  the  wharf  with  me  to  turn  me  over 
to  a policeman.  I begged  him  hard  to  let  me  go,  and 
told  him  “my  uncle  story,”  this  being  about  the 
hundredth  time  I had  told  it  since  leaving  home. 
While  he  stood  listening  to  me,  a man  came  up  and 
wanted  to  know  what  was  going  on.  The  watch- 
man told  him  and  they  conversed  for  a time.  The 
outcome  was,  that  the  newcomer  introduced  him- 
self as  Captain  Williams,  commanding  a three  mast- 
ed schooner,  the  “Laura  Jane,”  bound  on  a trading 
trip  for  Central  American  ports.  He  needed  a cabin 
boy,  and  offered  me  a job  at  five  dollars  a month. 
Betwixt  jail  and  the  schooner,  I chose  the  latter,  as 
this  afforded  a chance  to  travel  on  a salary,  with 
board  and  lodging  assured.  This,  in  my  friendless 
end  needy  condition,  seemed  a great  opportunity, 
and  I gladly  accepted. 


14  Life  and  adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

The  captain,  after  having  me  sign  some  papers 
at  the  British  Consulate  (the  “Laura  Jane”  was 
registered  under  the  British  flag)  took  me  to  a store 
that  dealt  in  all  sorts  of  marine  supplies.  He  fitted 
me  up  with  a complete  sailor  outfit,  pants  that 
looked  like  umbrellas  on  the  bottom,  sailor’s  blouse, 
a neat  cap — in  fact  when  I was  dressed  up  I looked 
like  a “salt-water  dude”.  After  a visit  to  a barber 
shop,  where  my  hair — that  looked  like  a chrysan- 
themum— was  cut  short,  we  went  aboard  his  vessel, 
the  “ Laura  Jane  ”,  where  I soon  felt  at  home.  Every 
body  petted  me,  and  some  of  the  men  told  me  all  I 
needed  to  do  was  to  watch  the  sea  gulls  and  flying 
fish.  The  same  afternoon  we  were  towed  down  the 
Mississippi  River  by  a tug,  and  when  I awoke  early 
in  the  morning  we  were  out  on  the  blue  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  with  nothing  but  water  on  all  sides  of  us. 

There  was  just  a little  to  do  here  and  there,  and 
for  a couple  of  days  all  went  well.  Then  the  cook, 
as  black  a nigger  as  I ever  saw,  spoiled  all  the  fun — 
he  wanted  me  to  peel  potatoes.  I made  a disrespect- 
ful reply  and  refused.  He  became  angry  and  I 
talked  back  and  called  him  names.  He  picked  up  a 
piece  of  rope  and  gave  me  a beating  such  as  I had 
never  felt  before.  At  last  he  tired  and  I darted  away 
into  the  captain’s  cabin  with  the  cook  at  my  heels.  I 
tried,  between  my  sobs  and  cries  of  pain,  to  tell 
what  had  happened.  The  cook,  who  was  in  a better 
talking  condition,- stated  his  side  of  the  case,  and  the 
captain  directed  him  to  take  me  out  again  and  give 
me  another  good  thrashing.  That  evening  I peeled 
potatoes  and  washed  dishes  and  did  everything  that 
was  asked  of  me.  This  is  how  I was  taught  to  obey 
orders  aboard  the  “Laura  Jane”. 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


15 


But  after  this  first  beating  (as  up  to  then  I was 
rather  saucv  anyhow)  all  the  other  sailors  took  a 

hand  in  cuffing  me;  so 
looking  at  sea  gulls,  dol- 
phine  and  flying  fish  was 
not  all  I had  to  do  by 
any  means.  They  (the 
captain,  mateB  four 
tough  sailors  and  that 
cook)  kept  me  busy 
from  early  morning  till 
late  at  night,  and  I 
often  wondered  what  my 
mother  would  have  said 
if  she  could  have  seen 
her  son  scrubbing  decks, 
washing  clothes,  splicing 
ropes,  patching  sails, 
climbing  up  and  down 
the  rope  ladders  and 
out  on  the  bowsprit, 

"The  Captain  directed  the  cook  to  take  me  his  feet  Washed  by  the 
and  give  me  a good  thrashing.”  WaV6S. 

The  captain  was  hardly  ever  sober,  and  the  rest 
of  the  crew  drank  their  share  of  the  “booze”.  One 
day,  when  receiving  unusually  bad  treatment,  I told 
the  cook  that  I would  desert  the  ship  the  first  chance 
that  offered  itself.  He  repeated  my  threat  to  the 
crew,  and  they  kicked  and  beat  me  more  severely 
than  ever. 

After  a fortnight  cruising  against  head  winds  we 
reached  Progresso,  Yucatan,  Mexico,  and  took  on  a 
load  of  dye  wood  and  cocoanuts.  The  captain 
bought  a pair  of  fine  young  parrots,  intending  to 


16  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

take  them  home  as  a present  to  his  wife.  They 
could  not  speak  a word  and  as  the  dealer  had  told 
him  they  would  talk  quickly,  he  was  very  cross  and 
spiteful,  thinking  he  had  been  fooled.  He  uttered  a 
long  string  of  oaths  every  time  he  looked  at  the  birds. 
For  a few  days  they  were  very  quiet,  then  they  began 
talking,  and  the  way  they  used  “cuss  words”  was 
something  awful.  No  one  was  greatly  shocked, 
however,  for  aboard  the  “ Laura  Jane”  every  second 
word  was  a curse,  anyway. 

While  here  the  captain  bought  another  big 
supply  of  “mesqual”  (Mexican  brandy)  a beverage 
which  drives  the  drinker  crazy.  The  night  after 
leaving  Progresso,  while  a little  too  happy,  he  in- 
vited the  rest  of  the  crew  to  help  themselves;  it 
needed  only  a little  while  for  them  all  to  be  in  a 
beastly  condition.  A squall  struck  the  schooner, 
and  the  cook’s  presence  of  mind  in  slashing  a hole  in 
the  mainsail  was  all  that  saved  the  ship  from  turning 
turtle. 


Chapter  III. 

“Deserting  the  Ship.” 

ONE  week  after  leaving  Progresso  we  cast  an- 
chor in  the  roadstead  of  Belize,  the  capital  of 
the  British  crown  colony  of  British  Honduras. 
The  cook  had  me  row  him  to  the  town , 'where  he  was  to 
purchase  supplies,  and  while  he  was  gone  I could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  desert.  Keeping  along  the 
shore  until  I reached  the  shelter  of  the  jungle,  several 


Mas#  mmmmSmM^  fft&mhm 

Sfflg^9»  #U$’Q#q%n  #feP!q_PrI  iMF% 
®8ob#^#™Rpi^^  MI 
mw°£¥^Mrx%!^98eki3&H<%  mt 

raw  crabs  and  fish  seg^gn^j  l ^ Qdi90ai&  moilJ 
The  schooner  evidently  did  not  receive  a cargo, 
fdbWbd#  roofed  ori’tb^thM'hboMing  sbd'w&fTgone. 
l^T^olfevptegeity  '©(mig^^&fioeldtt^eagy  dhpi 

tdhhbldsgsy  %®*it§n«^-i  Th#  ^hipp^iTrst^^d?^ 
y^ftajhgt  $bwh.  -sBfeT^nw&STspi  t@W8.sdf>  Jpeifeapi 
t^bMiy'the^hdrihfi^^nt^/ali^  th63g§o$l#  tee’fifldd ' 
ijeddr  t(^fe^etfe^^lt^te»p^©h(tgcv?ith  a&clAmericatt 
tratnpp^oxn  ni  rftnom  js  aiallob  trlgia  sagjsw  aa  sr/bx&t 
tsq  fitWf  a<^'#h^  P!hi|uirerfdffa  littld 

edld0ffirfefif  ^':Mhd?<KfeSr^S3l^l^  'dbblhhid  §nP£M"%&V'& 
ine  #s^fcle,few  ^t^^^^h^-fehe  told  me,  belonged 
tSMhcfCSto^^K^tioii  stffi&a  |dek&bcb,te  fibd’sbi^ 
bfie  Shd  fils#  g^^dftddiioiie^ 

tb  pay  f 6r* bhrvhi^J'lny'haib' cd¥;  -hhd  ’ 'wfren  I returned 
from  the  barber  shop  she  caught°i1fre£'%i  berr  a&rtsf; 


is  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  l, 

large  store.  When  he  came  home  that  evening  he 
was  so  startled  at  my  resemblance  to  his  dead  son 
that  he  could  not  bear  me  in  his  presence,  so  he  sent  me 
to  a small  boarding  house  nearby,  and  here  I wrote 
a letter  home,  telling  my  people  of  my  whereabouts, 
and  asking  their  forgiveness  for  my  wrong  doings. 
This  was  the  first  time  I had  communicated  with 
them  since  the  day  I left  home. 

Out  of  a population  of  nearly  twenty  thousand 
in  Belize,  nineteen  thousand  were  negroes,  who  earned 
their  living  by  cutting  mahogany  trees  in  the  interior. 
Each  Christmas  day  they  return  and  spend  the 
earnings  of  a year  in  riotous  living.  Late  in  January 
they  start  again  for  the  camp  in  dugouts — boats 
made  by  burning  out  large  cotton-wood  trees.  They 
receive  as  wages  eight  dollars  a month  in  money,  and 
seven  quarts  of  flour  and  four  pounds  of  pork  per 
week,  and  are  obliged  to  sign  a contract  and  receive 
three  months’  pay  in  advance  to  hold  them.  I 
discovered  this  before  I was  in  Belize  many  days,  and 
made  plans  to  secure  this  advance  money  to  pay  my 
way  back  to  New  Orleans  on  a steamer  which  stopped 
at  Belize  every  week. 

Every  mahogany  camp  had  a commissary  store, 
and  as  I could  read  and  write,  I offered  my  services 
to  Senor  Gonzales  as  bookkeeper  for  such  a camp, 
assuring  him  that  I could  be  useful  in  keeping  ac- 
counts. He  tried  to  persuade  me  not  to  go,  but  I 
insisted,  and  finally  after  signing  a contract  he  gave 
me  the  three  months’  pay  as  an  advance  on  my 
wages.  This  $24.00  was  to  be  used  to  supply  the 
outfit  necessary  for  a stay  of  eleven  months  “ up  the 
bush.” 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


19 


This  was  Monday,  and  as  the  fare  to  New  Or- 
leans was  only  $8.00  in  the  steerage  of  the  steamer 
that  sailed  every  Thursday,  I started  out,  boy  fashion 
to  have  a good  time  with  the  surplus  money  on  the 
principle:  “That  easy  comes — easy  goes”,  and  man- 
aged to  spend  the  sixteen  dollars  quickly,  treating 
everybody  to  candy,  ice  cream  and  other  such  things. 
At  ten  o’clock  Thursday  morning  the  steamer  cast 
anchor  down  the  bay.  The  water  being  very  shallow, 
closer  to  the  shore,  they  had  large  flat  bottomed 
barges  loaded  with  freight,  bananas  and  cocoanuts, 
ready  to  leave  the  wharf  to  discharge  alongside  the 
steamer.  I climbed  on  one  of  these,  and  as  soon  as 
the  gang  plank  was  laid  on  reaching  the  steamer’s 
side,  started  on  board  to  buy  a ticket  to  New  Orleans. 
I was  met  by  a soldier  from  the  West  India  regiment 
who  stood  with  gun  and  fixed  bayonet  barring  the 
way,  and  in  no  uncertain  words  ordered  me  off  the 
steamer.  On  the  barge  I made  inquiries  and  learned 
to  my  consternation  that  a lady  had  died  the  pre- 
vious night  of  yellow  fever,  and  that  the  steamer 
had  “declared  quarantine.” 

(Quarantine  in  this  case  meant  that  if  a person 
from  an  infected  place  should  find  passage  on  a 
steamer,  the  same  would  be  held  fourteen  days  for 
observation  on  arrival  in  the  States,  thus  causing 
great  expense  and  total  loss  of  the  fruit  cargo.) 

I returned  to  the  landing,  and  taking  refuge 
behind  some  large  boxes,  I had  a good  healthy  cry; 
it  seemed  fate  was  surely  giving  me  a hard  deal. 
There  I was,  thousands  of  miles  from  home,  a small 
uneducated,  friendless  boy  in  a foreign  country,  and 
at  that  in  a yellow  fever  infected  city,  surrounded  on 
all  sides  by  miles  of  mangrove  swamps  infested  by 


20 1 


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prisM'for’W  fVkPM(y&&  ^W^()«)A» : 

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-tW3®e  ah^^^S^WJial.M^llrfegSg^v^  4#g# 
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couples  in  our  camp,  twenty-eight  had  common  law 
9WfSmiSaSfefflfff  fe.Mxf  c^fldren 

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rtKey  haririrostthe 

of  thejunglfet  kW&h&dlbm  ijight 


22  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

to  keep  the  fires  burning  briskly  as  a protection 
against  attack.  After  nine  days  of  hard  work  we 
reached  a clearing,  our  destination,  and  soon  every- 
body was  busy  building  huts  of  palm  leaves,  using 
thin  vines  to  fasten  them.  My  room  was  in  Cap- 
tain Jones’  shanty,  and  as  I boarded  with  him,  fared 
well,  as  a part  of  everything  anybody  killed  while 
hunting  was  always  brought  to  the  captain.  Thus  I 
became  acquainted  with  roasted  baboons,  fried  par- 
rots, turtle  and  armadillo  stews,  tapir  steak,  iguana 
(an  enormous  and  ugly  tree  lizard) , monkey  soup,  etc. 
They  even  fried  and  ate  snakes,  but  I drew  the  line 
there. 

In  the  fall  the  mahogany  hunter  climbs  the 
highest  tree  he  can  find,  and  looking  about  easily 
discovers  the  mahogany  as  it  is  the  only  tropical 
tree  that  changes  the  color  of  its  leaves,  and  casts 
them  each  fall  to  grow  new  ones  in  the  spring.  With 
the  aid  of  a compass  and  machete  he  makes  his  way 
to  it.  A peculiarity  of  the  mahogany  is,  that  always 
a single  tree  only  will  be  found,  and  another  may  not 
be  discovered  for  miles.  The  tree  hunter'  continues 
blazing  from  tree  to  tree,  until  he  has  found  a.  suf- 
ficient number  to  keep  the  gang  busy  during  the 
season.  The  regular  task  for  each  laborer  is  to  clear 
a path  two  hundred  feet  long  and  one  hundred  feet 
wide  each  day,  with  the  exception  of  Sunday,  so  that 
after  the  mahogany  is  cut  and  squared,  oxen  can  pull 
the  logs  to  the  river  to  be  floated  during  the  rainy  sea- 
son to  Belize, from  where  they  areexportedto  all  parts 
of  the  world.  These  laborers  are  very  skillful  with 
the  machete,  and  only  the  largest  trees  are  cut  with 
axes,  then  sawed  up  and  rolled  out  of  the  way. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


23 


My  duties  consisted  of  keeping  the  accounts  of 
the  laborers.  A sick  day  counted  one  dollar  against 
the  laborer’s  wages,  machetes,  if  broken,  two  dollar 
(they  cost  twenty-five  cents  each) ; axes,  two  dollars 
and  a half  (they  cost  seventy-five  cents).  If  any- 
thing was  bought  of  the  commissary  department 
they  had  to  pay  enormous  prices — common  brown 
sugar,  twenty-five  cents  a pound ; calico,  thirty-five 
cents  a yard ; molasses,  a dollar  a gallon ; coffee  sell- 
ing at  Belize  for  ten  cents  a package  was  sold  here 
for  fifty  cents.  In  fact  everything  at  that  rate,  even 
matches,  coal  oil,  etc. 

Here  I received  a letter  from  home,  telling  me 
how  anxious  my  parents  had  hunted  for  me  and 
given  me  up  for  dead,  and  how  glad  they  were  to 
hear  from  me  again.  I sent  a reply,  and  told  them 
what  I was  doing,  and  asked  them  to  send  money  to 
pay  my  way  home.  But  I had  the  time  of  my  life — 
fishing,  hunting,  eating  new  kinds  of  fruit,  guavas, 
breadfruit,  etc.  I saw  butterflies  of  gorgeous  colors ; 
birds  more  strange  and  beautiful  than  I ever  im- 
agined could  exist,  some  of  them  with  bills  larger 
than  their  entire  bodies.  Captain  Jones  was  very 
kind  to  me,  in  fact  I could  not  have  been  treated 
better  by  anyone.  The  laborers  were  good  to  me,  too, 
and  I soon  made  myself  popular  by  giving  them  over- 
weight, and  when  they  purchased  goods  from  the 
store,  charged  them  less  on  their  accounts.  They  in 
turn  presented  me  with  many  pretty  souvenirs. 

But  everything,  good  and  bad,  has  an  end,  and 
on  awakening  one  morning  I found  that  I could  not 
open  my  eyelids  nor  move  a single  finger.  I was 
deathly  sick  and  turning  black  from  the  effects  of 
that  most  dangerous  of  tropical  diseases — the  Black 


a%ijfi^al'4here 


|^efr  ‘Own  ;te,  ^ttfeahrtO 

lU«  g,f%gl*3^4± 


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5 the 

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ton  blnoo  I tedt  bxmol  I grrimom  sno  gninadawe  no 
saw  I .lagrtrt  elgnia  b evocn  -ron  abitaya  vm  naqo 
lo  atoaJb  arft  moil  Jfoakf  gnimi/J  Lab  dais  yhiteab 
ioalS  axij — aaasaatb  laoiqoit  lo  anoiagrusb  taom  tarft 


'S fJVfOBTrXlEEBBRAIIEB  TRAMP.  025 


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laJiB  airrori  lUoi-Yinswi  bnB  , or  tea  xrriBO  b gninava 
oJ  itel  adi 

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e%  i/f^?3($^A&E& 

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Briik^rxti^§ril^^aSsefi^er  £fefJ  Ri&r$n 

PtiMd^rdd,  %m%r 

miles  south.  ,BlBmaiBu0  lo 

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abeofoa^  welcasli.tdiid  the^aptedn  ’awoke  mertoibifelp 
cfeimireef  dkeasaili  oWe.had  terdlyafiaished  jwheh  Idle 
' Windsishegafa  italMdwriayhubrieimeYia'rid  theixW|der 
d^fimleditq.Jb©^.  ljkeiriicaldrena  /Fhegwadeb  indoeaaed 
mshcb  bqeatari  Hl^x'mQuhtains';sl%htniiii'g  affldvthupufer 

^esslpifess^edba  Plain  qjfcuBedtdlft^ 
rapi;ay  dfcdwdrxfejttt  .temiisttfei)  cocldBshelksiiSK&hm 
ciMalkatln  tpaUblrrthxiew  thet  wateEi  QyBrboaird?,!:;  thris 
ihe^piqgitHe  jfikptatoatoj^edpiifj  affeartted  Ijetfoegatarto 
.pffia!y)f®330«ut  ffliMj'/rqpeat  p&ltfeflsiqs^xmqldm^f  alksorts 
, fcfe®E®mises  tbiieadrp;bqtter  life  iihewas  §aved.rioMe 
.tTiedj  1pGpM§hrSQm©:>qkithe , cargo  (iMeibogxrd^i  buifbthe 
xfeftTE^§  wfeire/ftote  hefivylVtoi  handle,  Iri^Bfaeih  1 1 atsHd 
xbixbaiSin^  jfcfe  cQptdkt  tdld  -.nie  - ihershanks,  dmpweife 
waiting  in  the  deep  water  beneath  us.aad^sajidlfcpey 


26  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

would  surely  eat  me  if  the  boat  foundered,  because 
they  preferred  children,  and  thus  frightened  me  into 
almost  superhuman  efforts.  As  day  broke  the  storm 
subsided,  but  the  sea  was  yet  rolling  high.  Towards 
evening  a calm  set  in,  and  twenty-four  hours  after 
the  storm  started  there  was  not  enough  wind  left  to 
drive  us  ahead.  The  Southern  Cross  shone  peacefully 
overhead,  and  the  water  of  the  Gulf  seemed  like 
molten  gold.  Dark  as  the  night  was,  I could  see 
fish  enveloped  in  a golden  hue  swimming  in  the  depths 
of  the  Gulf.  The  captain  explained  to  me  that  the 
white  folks  said  minute  animals  caused  that  color- 
ing, but  his  old  mammy  told  him  it  was  the  dissolving 
gold  from  trading  ships  that  were  lost  centuries  before 
on  the  old  “ Spanish  Main”.  Four  days  after  leaving 
Belize  we  landed  at  Livingston,  the  Atlantic  seaport 
of  Guatemala. 

As  we  stepped  on  shore,  we  were  met  by  the 
“ Commandante  ’ ’ of  the  port.  He  had  four  gorgeous 
ly  dressed  officers  with  him,  two  generals  and  two 
captains.  They,  speaking  in  broken  English,  told 
me  that  Livingston  was  a military  post,  and  that 
they  were  the  officers  in  charge.  Later,  when 
visiting  their  barracks,  instead  of  finding  a regiment, 
I discovered  that  their  entire  force  consisted  of  only 
six  soldiers,  each  an  ex-convict,  “pardoned”  to  join 
the  army.  Their  uniforms  were  made  up  of  sandals 
with  strings  between  the  big  toes  to  hold  them,  a pair 
of  dark  blue  pants,  a helmet  and  a white  cotton  shirt. 
Each  man,  however,  was  equipped  like  an  arsenal, 
with  a long  sword,  a gun,  a bayonet  and  a big  pistol. 
Here  I bought  some  books  to  study  the  Spanish 
language,  and  as  I spoke  French  fluently,  I made 
rapid  progress. 


AMERICA'S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


27 


While  looking  about  one  day,  I made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  a Mr.  Rich,  a wine  merchant.  This 
gentleman  may  have  sold  good  wines,  but  his  method 
of  manufacturing  and  selling  whiskey  was  a caution. 
He  imported  German  potato  alcohol  worth  about 
ten  cents  a gallon,  then  diluted  it  by  adding  two  parts 
of  water  and  a little  burnt  sugar  to  give  it  color. 
This  mixture  was  labeled  and  sold  for  two  pesos, 
per  quart  bottle.  Providing  his  business  has  kept 
up,  his  bank  account  ought  to  equal  that  of  John 
D.  Rockefeller  by  this  time. 

One  morning  just  after  daybreak  I started  afoot 
on  the  road  to  Guatemala  City,  two  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  away  with  nothing  but  a mule  path 
and  a telegraph  wire  to  guide  me.  The  country  is 
very  mountainous  and  pack  trains  only  are  used  for 
transportation.  I had  covered  about  fifteen  miles 
when  the  discovery  of  a mountain  lion  trailing  be- 
hind greatly  alarmed  me.  He  followed  me  for  quite 
a distance,  but  aside  from  scaring  me  nearly  out  of 
my  senses  did  not  harm  me.  It  was  ten  miles  to 
the  nearest  hacienda  (cattle  ranch)  and  I traveled 
the  greater  part  of  this  distance  with  my  face  turned 
over  my  shoulder,  with  eyes  riveted  on  the  path 
behind,  instead  of  in  front  of  me. 

Everybody  was  kind  to  me  at  the  hacienda, 
and  after  I had  related  my  adventure,  the  ranch 
owner  told  a boy  to  take  me  on  horseback  to  the  next 
hacienda.  In  this  manner,  and  by  receiving  Spanish 
recommendations,  I had  only  very  few  miles  to  walk. 
After  passing  early  one  morning  over  a low  ridge,  I 
found  myself  looking  down  on  one  of  the  grandest 
panoramas  this  earth  could  furnish.  I shall  try  to 
picture  the  sight  that  met  my  eyes. 


-OB  oft  W&8fjfis!t  ^feteroai!©  $(»td  ddlenfl  dW front 

^Sfi'yne  .m^bti^onfedestyriisi)^  .Wo  blaek/vofeaboep, 
fMflMth  aftgswd  ^0<4i7MQw^tb®si©i?goS  ye^iBmetetasgt 
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al^iyBa^feR»t  ptyjEsmMfc.  bsSioqkfi  «8fl 

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^^saBxirteetgMa|i^^Mt-4fe5  sunWJtft^tf 
AiteTnjoum^j-  ^p^gfewrifriihjftbeo^f fewfer  eM  ,the 
reflection  of  the  sun’s  eiBpl^iilolditisia«0e 

sms  W&fea  and 

M%oJt  JSflflW  &®§r  .^kjySJiSWS^ro1^.# 

33hftv<^n^. 

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^tetnfetifeo^^dat  £^9§o  bM*¥n 

oiiupl  expected-’toEflAdH  mosfrihbaMtifel  cai^A^t  wafe 
toety  cmfletedisapppintei,  feribufiside  pi(iiie'$«lacfe  of 
ddi©oRrasids»tws$  ^ate^oal^iitHecl-Qath^ralaand  dhe 
ffibera-r  H&tfeet^t^datfeBlP»^dsfcndrs«p4r3d®dviiy  ike 
Igowemojeh^ixlrlimldnitj  Jbdh&h$ttag  twosJ^  «df- 
rfnirjngd j B®rfcjj©aahed my  ^t'ekeQfcianddound-fthat 
the  very  same  qt®raMihfio,staai  fliaMsiEwfl , iQffihfckfe 
^ifeiG^i^o^ta^jprfe^Q^tirfc^^ll^Sbfe^/ljaving 
dtppsargd-  .omjnovbB  yen  holster  barf  I rotia  bns 
txon  Jtij-tafcris  saT  oJkd&b  n^ihM©amer,^ixidays-ifimti 
(GMtppe^ieo'iQr  ^aBi  Jose  ,de  rlSu&temflla-  Ito  rehohrSah 

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l9^)ime?foluE  lefjg>  jp>to^ib©fore/feeye^ihea^eid.tlhe 
dGitpjO^  Mdxi^o.  onB'hadrffcocifti^jfcltojf  Srs^mvfcdaott 
(tjwefeeffei^dfredfih^ 

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Am£RIOAj&  MOST!  GBO:HR«TEDi<FRaMH 


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piptws^  ™» 

to  tell  how  very  pious  Catholics  my  parents  were  anti 
that  my  uncle  was,an  “Obispo”,  (bishop),  to  receive' 

6|6Sf  f^herfe  anc 


.yalq  or  noidairvfit  xra  'gnmsoor  ids  .yaao  bocneoz 

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add#esfee&,t  4i  deeidditetaaifeet  ariyiltneiwlddge  [these  j 

lahgmgefedsh  trysandi  hustldJup  at^vBi^edrsuifeicjins 


30  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

Earlynext  morning  I was  “ on  my  job,”  and  the 
first  lady  I approached  gave  me  a sack  nearly  filled 
with  wearing  apparel.  I took  it  down  to  the  tracks 
of  the  Mexican  Central  Railroad  for  inspection. 
While  thus  occupied,  a railroad  watchman  discovered 
me  and  we  were  soon  engaged  in  conversation. 
After  a little  time  we  formed  an.  agreement,  whereby 
I was  to  do  the  begging,  and  he  the  selling  of  second- 
hand clothes,  and  then  divide  the  proceeds.  The 
undertaking  proved  a great  success,  and  I was  soon 
living  in  a nice  boarding  house,  and  having  a fine 
time  in  general.  During  the  morning  hours  from 
10  a.  m.  until  2 p.  m.  I was  busy  bumming  clothes 
in  my  Mexican  outfit,  and  in  the  evening  attired  in 
an  up-to-date  suit,  I spent  my  time  most  pleasantly 
at  theaters.  After  I had  “done”  the  city  I left  on 
a hobo-ticket  via  the  Mexican  Central  for  El  Paso, 
Texas. 

My  next  adventure  happened  in  Socorro,  New 
Mexico.  I had  about  sixty  American  dollars  left. 
On  entering  a gambling  house  I saw  people  playing 
roulette  and  winning  whole  stacks  of  money.  It 
seemed  easy,  and  receiving  an  invitation  to  play, 
though  small,  I put  a dollar  on  the  black.  The 
wheel  spun;  the  ball  dropped  on  a black  point,  and 
I had  two  dollars.  I soon  had  ten.  Fooled  by 
fickle  fortune,  I commenced  to  play  reckless,  and 
risked  larger  sums,  lost,  and  in  exactly  ten  min- 
utes was  dead  broke.  Undaunted,  I walked  out  of 
the  gambling  house,  and  after  begging  an  old  greasy 
suit  of  overalls  from  an  engineer,  sold  my  own  suit 
to  a Mexican  for 'two  dollars,  I returned  and  lost  that 
too.  I was  almost  broken-hearted,  as  I intended  to 
surprise  my  parents  with  the  money  I had  saved, 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


31 


and  to  show  them  that  I could,  even  though  young, 
care  for  myself. 

I footed  it  to  the  next  water  tank,  nineteen  miles 
away,  and  at  every  step  covering  the  long  distance 
I promised  myself  never  to  touch  a game  of  chance 
of  any  sort.  For  over  twenty-five  years  I kept  that 
pledge,  for  I never  learned  to  play  cards,  checkers, 
in  fact  even  none  of  the  harmless  and  social  games. 

» A few  days  after  this  experience,  I arrived  at 
Albuquerque,  New  Mexico.  I had  been  in  town  but 
a short  time  when  a man  sat  down  beside  me  on  a 
trunk  and  began  questioning  me.  Innocently  I told 
him  how  I happened  to  be  in  Albuquerque,  and,  in 
fact,  did  not  omit  any  part  of  my  story.  When  I 
had  finished  he  rose,  and  opening  his  coat,  displayed 
a detective  badge,  and  ushered  me  to  the  jail,  as  it 
was  just  so  much  money  for  him  to  arrest  me,  as  the 
law  there  made  no  difference,  when  it  comes  to  a fat 
fee,  between  children  and  grown-up  folks.  Arriving 
there,  he  locked  me  in  a dark  and  filthy  cell.  This 
was  my  first  experience  of  prison  life,  and  I fell  to 
crying  and  sobbing.  But  Providence  again  seemed 
to  protect  me,  for,  after  a short  time  a gentleman,  a 
Mr.  Hellwig,  owning  a large  carpet  store  in  the  city, 
who  had  been  told  about  me,  came  to  the  jail,  and 
after  questioning  me,  offered  to  give  me  a job,  which 
I gladly  accepted.  After  handing  the  detective  a 
couple  of  dollars,  so  he  would  not  lose  his  fee,  he  took 
me  to  a clothing  store  and  bought  me  a suit,  shoes, 
etc.,  so  I once  more  looked  presentable.  This  was 
luck  indeed  as  compared  with  a term  in  the  filthy, 
ill-smelling,  vermin  infected  city  prison.  I promised 
Mr.  Hellwig  that  I would  behave  myself,  and  that  I 
would  not  leave  his  employ  for  at  least  a year. 


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AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP.  33 

tunes  and  tramp  with  him  to  Florida — the  more  he 
told  me  that  there  were  plenty  of  “lemonade  springs” 
“rock-candy-mountains”  and  “cigarette  groves” 
there.  That  afternoon-  we  walked  twenty  miles 
towards  the  south,  just  that  many  miles  away  from 
my  own  parents  and  home.  We  had  only  covered  a 
small  part  of  the  distance,  when  I unburdened  my 
heart  to  my  new-found  friend,  telling  him  the  story 
of  my  past  experience.  He  listened  very  attentively, 
then  he  began  unfolding  the  story  of  his  own  life. 

First  of  all,  he  told  me,  never  to  call  him  any- 
thing but  “Frenchy,  ” as  he  was  of  that  nationality, 
although  bom  in  New  Orleans.  His  age  was  twenty- 
seven  years  and  two  days  previous  to  our  meeting 
he  had  been  discharged  from  the  State  penitentiary 
at  San  Quentin,  California,  after  “doing”  a five 
years’  term  for  the  crime  of  holding  up  a stage,  or, 
to  be  more  exact,  for  highway  robbery.  He  spun  the 
tale  so  earnestly  and  so  quietly  that  I never  dreamed 
him  to  be  anything  but  a genuine  hero  (according  to 
my  ideas  of  a hero  at  that  time).  It  was  twenty 
miles  before  we , reached  a tank  where  all  trains 
would  stop  for  water.  Arriving  there  we  found 
around  a camp-fire  a short  distance  away,  six  big 
fellows,  each  resting  on  a big  roll  of  blankets.  They 
seemed  to  be  very  neat  in  general  appearances,  and 
were  apparently  laborers  out  of  employment.  When 
they  spied  Frenchy,  one  of  them  came  up  and  asked 
him  for  a match. 

“Chase  yourself,  you  Gay  Cat!  Go  and  work 
for  your  matches,”  was  the  reply  he  received,  and  a 
look  showing  how  disgusted  Frenchy  was  even  to 
talk  to  the  man. 


34  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

Frenchy  took  me  on  the  other  side  of  the  tank 
and  said : “ Kid,  I don’t  want  you  to  mix  with  these 
4 Gay  Cats.’  ” 

I inquired  what  he  meant  by  “Gay  Cats”,  and 
he  commenced  to  laugh.  “You  have  been  travel- 
ing the  ‘pike’  for  a solid  year,  and  don’t  know  what 
a ‘Gay  Cat’  is?  Get  out,  Kid,  you  are  joshing.” 

I told  him  I did  not  know,  and  then  he  ex- 
plained to  me:  “A  Gay  Cat,”  said  he,  “is  a loafing 
laborer,  who  works  mayb,e  a week,  gets  his  wages 
and  vagabonds  about,  hunting  for  another  ‘ pick  and 
shovel’  job.  Do  you  want  to  know  where  they  got 
their  monica  (nickname)  ‘Gay  Cat’?  See,  Kid, 
cats  sneak  about  and  scratch  immediately  after 
chumming  with  you  and  then  get  gay  (fresh). 
That’s  why  we  call  them  ‘Gay  Cats’.” 

With  this  he  pulled  a revolver,  and  walking  over 
to  the  “outfit,  ” kicked  their  can  of  coffee  over  into 
the  fire,  and  ordered  them  to  pick  up  their  rolls  and 
hike  (walk).  They  made  no  resistance,  but  just 
slung  their  bundles  over  their  backs,  marched  down 
the  track,  Indian  file,  without  even  turning  to  look 
back. 

“You  see,”  said  Frenchy,  “they  are  cowards. 
They  can  bawl  a fellow  out  when  they  are  working, 
but  are  worse  than  dogs  when  you  meet  them  on  a 
sidetrack  or  tank.” 

After  this  I could  have  done  anything  for  my 
partner,  for  hadn’t  he  made  six  big,  husky  fellows 
walk  at  his  command?  With  their  disappearance 
Frenchy ’s  good  temper  came  back  again,  and  he  was 
soon  telling  me  just  how  Gay  Cats  would  turn  a poor 
fellow  “up”  just  to  see  him  hang,  and  with  an  oath 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


35 


told  me  not  to  let  him  catch  me  talking  to  any  one  of 
them,  if  I wanted  to  avoid  trouble. 

Just  then  a train  whistled  in  the  distance,  and 
crouching  behind  some  bushes  we  waited  until  the 
brakemen  were  busy  looking  into  box  cars  for  hoboes 
and  hunting  hot  axle  boxes.  Now  we  made  a dash 
and  quickly  swinging  ourselves  into  an  open  box  car 
door  we  closed  it  quickly  and  crouched  into  the  farth- 
est comer.  We  were  not  discovered,  and  rode  forty 
miles  to  Modesto, a small  town, that  toFrenchy,  look- 
ing through  a crack,  seemed  to  appear  a good  place  to 
stop.  We  climbed  out,  and  as  we  intended  to  travel 
on  a passenger  train  that  night,  we  walked  up  the 
track,  and  finding  a shady  place  underneath  some 
trees,  we  were  soon  sound  asleep. 

As  a train  was  not  glue  till  11  p.  m.,  we  slept  till 
about  5 p.  m.,  then  Frenchy,  who  had  a few  dollars 
left  from  the  sum  they  give  at  San  Quentin  to  dis- 
charged prisoners  to  reach  their  homes  with,  sent  me 
up  town  to  buy  provisions.  On  my  return  he  had  a 
camp-fire  burning,  and  had  collected  some  empty 
tin  cans,  and  we  cooked  ourselves  a generous  supper. 
At  eight  P.  M.  he  told  me  to  stay  quietly  at  the 
camp  while  he  went  up  town  to  prowl  (look  for  some- 
thing to  steal).  When  he  returned  at  10  o’clock,  I 
hardly  recognized  him.  He  had  broken  into  a sheep 
herder’s  corral,  and  while  the  herders  snored  in 
slumber,  had  exchanged  his  clothes  for  theirs  in  the 
same  room  where  they  slept.  He  also  helped  him- 
self to  eighty  dollars  of  their  money  and  four  watches, 
then  hurried  away  to  rejoin  me. 

After  relating  his  experience  and  telling  me  of 
his  lucky  haul,  Frenchy  directed  me  to  lay  quiet 
until  we  should  hear  the  passenger  train  in  the  dis- 


36  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

tance.  When  the  far  away  whistle  reached  our  ears 
we  walked  quickly  towards  the  depot,  and  arrived 
there  just  as  the  train  came  to  a stop.  I had  rid- 
den the  front  end  of  baggage  cars  many  times,  but 
when  Frenchy  took  me  back  to  the  Pullman,  and 
told  me  to  sit  underneath  on  thev  narrow  wooden 
brakebeam,  I nearly  fainted.  Frenchy  had  no  time 
to  lose  talking  about  it,  however,  but  just  grabbed  me 
and  made  me  sit  down  on  the  beam.  To  encourage 
me,  he  sat  on  the  sameoneand  warned  me  to  hold  on. 
A moment  later  the  train  started.  First  the  wheels 
turned  slowly,  then  faster  and  faster,  and  after 
awhile  the  whirling  noise  became  deafening. 

People  riding  in  coaches  on  rock  ballasted  roads 
cannot  imagine  how  it  feels  to  be  rushing  through 
space  fifty  miles  an  hour  over  a loose  sand  ballasted 
track  seated  upon  a brakebeam.'-  Soon  my  eyes  were 
filled  with  dust  so  that  I could  not  open  them.  My 
ears  were  becoming  deaf  from  the  grinding  and  whir- 
ling noise.  My  mouth  and  throat  were  as  dry  as  a 
parchment.  And  there  I held  on,  while  Frenchy 
kept  his  arm  around  me  to  keep  me  from  falling  off. 
The  train  went  faster  and  faster  over  a perfectly 
level  road,  but  light  rails  and  as  the  night  was  very 
dark,  I felt  as  though  I was  shut  up  in  a barrel  full 
of  sand  and  rocks,  which  someone  was  rolling  down 
an  endless  stairway,  so  terrible  was  the  jolting  and 
jumping  at  every  joint  of  the  rails. 

The  train’s  next  stop,  ten  miles  away,  was  soon 
reached,  and  as  it  slowed  up  and  I had  a chance  to 
open  my  eyes,  I took  courage  again.  When  Frenchy 
praised  me  for  my  display  of  nerve  to  ride  that  way 
and  told  me  he  never  saw  a kid  of  my  age  and  size 
display  so  much  courage  the  first  time  “under- 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


37 


Death,”  I forgot  all  my  terror  and  almost  laughed, 
thinking  what  a coward  I had  been.  I told  Frenchy 
how  my  mouth  and  throat  were  parched,  and  he 
handed  me  a small  piece  of  plug  tobacco,  telling 
me  to  chew  it,  when  the  dust  should  choke  me  again. 
He  then  climbed  on  a brake  beam  of  the  rear  truck, 
and  left  me  alone  on  the  front  one,  thus  giving  me 
more  room  to  hang  on. 

Soon  we  were  flying  again  and  the  dust  be- 
came thicker  and  thicker.  I put  the  tobacco  in  my 
mouth,  but  just  then  there  was  en  extra  hard  jolt, 
caused  by  a real  bad  joint  in  the  rails,  and  before  I 
had  time  to  think,  I swallowed  that  piece  of  tobacco. 
It  was  the  first  chew  of  the  weed  I had  ever  taken  in 
my  life.  Soon  I was  deathly  sick,  and  I nearly  lost 
my  grip  on  the  truck,  which  was  all  that  lay  between 
me  and  death.  Further  explanation  of  the  situation 
is  unnecessary.  I can  truthfully  add,  that  never 
since  that  night  and  ride  have  I touched  tobacco  in 
any  shape  or  form. 

At  the  next  stop  I slid  out  from  beneath  the 
car  and  ran  back  to  tell  Frenchy  how  ill  I felt.  He 
crawled  out  too,  and  after  shaking  the  dust  from  our 
clothes  we  went  to  a hotel  and  paid  for  a lodging. 
The  landlord  showed  us  to  the  room  and  after  we 
entered  Frenchy  bolted  the  door. 

Then  the  strangest,  but  for  my  own  future  most 
vital  occurence  happened.  Picking  me  up  and  seat- 
ing me  upon  his  knee,  Frenchy  asked  me  in  a kind 
voice : “ Say,  Kid,  when  did  you  say  your  evening 
prayer  the  last  time?”  Shamefaced  I confessed  that 
I had  forgotten  to  thank  Providence  for  protecting 
me  soon  after  leaving  home.  Now  Frenchy,  the 
highway  robber,  burglar  and  ex-convict  had  me  kneel 


38  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

down  and  repeat  the  following  words : 

“I  solemnly  promise  never  to  associate  with 
anyone  in  whose  company  I would  be  ashamed  to 
pass  my  mother’s  home  in  broad  daylight.”  Amen. 

After  this  strange  prayer  he  put  me  to  bed,  and 
I was  soon  sound  asleep. 

Every  night  after  this'  first  one,  no  matter  if  we 
were  sleeping  in  hotels,  bams,  box  cars  or  camping 
out  by  a fire  in  the  woods,  I had  to  kneel  and  repeat 
this  odd  supplication,  and  after  we  parted  company, 
even  to  this  day,  I repeat  it  every  evening  and  am 
convinced  that  these  few,  strange  lines  have  pre- 
vented my  joining  that  army  of  tramps  whose  in- 
evitable destination  is  the  “Abyss”. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


39 


Chapter  VII. 


“Tramping  Overland  to  Florida.” 

EXT  morning 
Frenchy  bought 
enough  provi- 
sions to  last  us  during 
the  day,  and  we 
camped  in  the  woods 
by  a cool  spring,  just 
like  hunters  would, 
n washing  our  clothes 
and  taking  things  easy. 
That  afternoon  we  saw 
the  same  company  of 
Gay  Cats  that  Frenchy 
had  chased  away  sin- 
gle-handed at  the  tank, 
passing  [our  hiding 
place  on  a freight  train . 
We  could  see  them  in 
the  distance  leave  the 
train  and  walk  up 
town.  That  evening 

Washing  Our  Clothes  in  a Cool  Spring.  when  Frenchy  Went 

down  town  he  discovered  the  Gay  Cats  in  a saloon, 
seated  around  a table  drinking  beer.  He  walked 
into  the  place,  and  being  differently  dressed  they 
did  not  recognize  him.  When  they  were  not  watch- 


40  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

ing,  just  for  a joke,  he  appropriated  their  blanket 
rolls,  and  came  to  our  meeting  place  loaded  down  like 
a wagon  with  the  six  Gay  Cats’  “ feather  beds  We 
did  not  take  trouble  to  untie  any  of  them,  but  just 
cut  the  cords.  One  contained  a Bible,  some  had 
underwear  and  overalls,  but  all  had  good  warm 
blankets,  and  we  piled  them  up  and  crawling  between 
were  soon  sound  asleep,  not  even  waking  to  make 
the  passenger  train  we  arrived  on  the  night  before, 
and  that  it  had  been  our  intention  to  ride  the  beams 
underneath  again.  In  the  early  morning  we  set  fire 
to  our  bed  and  soon  there  was  nothing  left.  We 
walked  down  to  the  depot  to  buy  some  more  pro- 
visions, and  there  we  met  the  six  big,  husky  Gay 
Cats,  sneaking  around  the  depot,  goggling  everybody 
and  looking  underneath  the  platform  and  other  hid- 
ing places  trying  to  discover  their  blanket  rolls. 
The  way  they  sized  up  Frenchy  was  a cau- 
tion. No  sooner  did  they  recognize  him  than  all 
Started  across  the  street  where  a policeman  stood. 
We  did  not  wait  for  him  to  interview  us,  but  walked 
down  the  track  as  fast  as  possible,  for  Frenchy’s 
favorite  proverb  was:  “Better  be  sure  than  sorry.” 

After  this  lesson  in  riding  brakebeams  under 
Pullmans  I soon  became  an  expert,  and  as  Frenchy, 
for  good  reasons  and  remembrances  didn’t  like  Cali- 
fornia, we  quickly  crossed  the  Colorado  River  into 
Arizona  at  Yuma. 

At  Yuma  is  an  Apache  Indian  Reservation,  and 
the  government’s  laws  against  selling  liquor  to  its 
Red  wards  are  strictly  enforced.  The  informer  re- 
ceives one-half  the  fine,  and  Frenchy  came  near 
breaking  into  another  penitentiary.  It  happened 
thus : A big  Apache  approached  while  we  were  loaf- 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


41 


ing  about  the  depot,  and  calling  us  to  one  side  said  to 
Frenchy : “ White  man  want  to  make  some  money?” 
He  replied  in  the  affirmative.  “Well,  here  is  two 
bits  (25  cents) , go  get  Indian  some  liquor,  bring  him 
back,  me  give  two  bits  more,  then  you  give  me 
liquor.”  Frenchy,  without  a second  thought  went 
into  a saloon  and  bought  the  liquor.  Returning 
where  I was  waiting  with  the  thirsty  Red-skin,  he 
pulled  the  cork  out  of  the  bottle,  so  he  could  take 
first  a good  drink  himself,  when  a man  stepped  up 
to  him  and  whispered  in  his  ear:  “Say,  stranger, 
don’t  let  that  greasy  Indian  beg  you  for  a drink,  as 
he  is  a government  spy  and  arrests  strangers  who 
give  him  booze.  Why,  he  got  fifty  dollars  only  last 
week  for  sending  a poor  hobo  to  the  penitentiary  for 
two  years.” 

Frenchy  just  let  the  bottle  drop,  and  it  smashed 
into  a thousand  pieces.  Then  that  Indian  com- 
menced to  cuss  and  wanted  Frenchy  to  buy  him  some 
more  booze  for  the  other  twenty-five  cents,  but 
Frenchy  told  him  he  wanted  to  make  a dollar,  and 
that  if  he  gave  him  a dollar  to  buy  more  liquor  he 
would  do  so,  but  the  Apache  had  nothing  smaller 
than  a ten  dollar  bill  in  his  bead  purse.  That,  he 
finally  handed  to  Frenchy  and  then  waited  patiently 
in  front  of  the  saloon  for  our  return  with  the  booze. 
Frenchy  and  myself  made  our  exit  through  the  rear 
entrance  of  the  saloon,  and  we  skipped  across  the 
bridge  spanning  the  Colorado  River  back  into  Cal- 
ifornia, and  laid  low  until  after  dark,  when  we 
caught  a train  and  left  Yuma  and  a poorer  but 
perhaps  wiser  Redskin  behind  us. 

We  traveled  across  the  deserts  to  San  Antonio 
and  Frenchy’s  propensity  to  appropriate  property 


42  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

belonging  to  other  people  kept  us  well  supplied. 
That  even  thieves  have  comical  experiences  may  be 
new,  but  here  is  one  I remember  well,  for  I never 
saw  Frenchy  more  disgusted  on  our  whole  trip. 

At  Rosenbufg  Junction,  a few  miles  west  of 
Houston,  Texas,  Frenchy  grabbed  a large  steel- 
hooped  trunk  from  a railroad  truck.  He  carried  it 
to  our  meeting  place,  and  then  being  afraid  we 
would  be  surprised,  we  both  carried  the  two  hundred 
pound  affair  for  a solid  three  miles  on  a stony  rail- 
road track  in  a dark  and  rainy  night  to  a small 
wooden  trestle.  On  the  way  we  tried  to  guess  its 
contents.  I thought  we  had  found  a gold  mine,  but 
Frenchy  said  he  would  be  satisfied  if  it  contained  old 
silver  plate  and  the  like.  At  the  trestle  he  tried  to 
' open  the  treasure  box  with  his  jimmy  (chisel),  but 
in  vain,  as  the  trunk  was  all  covered  up  with  steel 
bands,  and  a padlock  as  large  as  a good  sized  mail 
box.  Not  until  we  had  wasted  nearly  two  hours  in 
trying  to  pry  it  open  did  he  manage  to  loosen  the 
bottom  of  the  trunk  sufficiently  to  get  at  the  con- 
tents. It  contained  garden  and  grain  seed,  probably 
the  property  of  some  Dutch  immigrant  who  had 
brought  them  from  the  old  country.  This  suprise 
'and  disappointment  was  what  made  Frenchy  so 
disgusted. 

We  passed  on  to  New  Orleans  where  we  stopped 
for  a few  days.  After  leaving  there  we  had  hard 
luck  and  began  walking  again,  hoping  to  turn  up  a 
job  by  which  Frenchy  could  make  a few  dollars, 
but  luck  was  against  us,  and  we  were  soon  dead 
broke.  Frenchy  was  a nervy  thief,  but  in  begging 
food  he  was  a failure.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  paid  all 
our  expenses,  but  now  was  my  turn  to  do  the  right 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  tramp. 


42 


thing  by  him  according  to  the  unwritten  “Rules 
of  the  Road.”  I had  to.  go  to  houses  and  ask  for 
food  and  bring  it  to  him.  As  I was  small,  and  had 
had  a year's  experience  in  bumming  it  was  fun,  the 
more  so  because  the  people  treated  me  well  and  gave 
plenty. 

After  leaving  Mobile,  Alabama,  we  found  the 
country  more  and  more  sparsely  settled,  and  when 
we  neared  the  Florida  State  Line,  houses  often  were 
miles  apart.  At  times  I found  it  hard  even  to  bum 
enough  for  myself,  let  alone  supply  my  partner. 
Then  I hit  on  a clever  plan.  Whenever  a kind  lady 
gave  me  a pie,  a piece  of  roast,  some  cold,  hard  bis- 
cuit or  tough  old  corn  bread,  I would  appropriate 
■ the  pie,  roast  and  maybe  a biscuit  and  bring  him  the 
rest.  Poor  Frenchy!  How  often  he  said  to  me: 
“ The  last  kid  I had  always  brought  me  pie,  roast 
and  cake,  while  you  never  bum  anything  better  than 
com  bread  and  old,  hard  biscuits.”  He  tried  to 
make  me  feel  as  if  I ought  to  bring  him  something 
better.  I was  getting  fat  while  Frenchy  surely  lost 
in  weight  by  this  operation,  called  in  the  tramp- 
argot:  “Robbing  the  Mail.” 

We  arrived  at  Pensacola  two  days  before  Christ- 
mas, and  being  broke  went  to  a sailor  “boss”  (sailor 
employment  agent).  This  man  hired  sailors,  board- 
ed and  clothed  them  and  kept  them  in  small  sums  of 
money,  which  was  taken  out  of  their  wages  later 
with  big  interest.  We  didn’t  have  any  idea  of  going 
to  sea,  but  we  surely  felt  in  need  of  a good  rest,  and 
after  all  the  biscuits  and  fat  pork,  a good  “square” 
Christmas  dinner.  I received  a nice  new  sailor  uni- 
form and  the  promise  of  a job  as  cabin  boy.  Frenchy 
was  given  a nice  outfit,  and  the  promise  of  a eook’s 


44  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

job,  as  he  had  learned  cooking  in  the  California  State 
Penitentiary. 

Christmas  morning  Boss  Davis  (that  was  the 
agent’s  name  ) invited  all  to  have  some  egg-nog,  and 
soon  the  other  fellows  were  dead  drunk.  Only  about 
four  of  the  whole  housefull  of  sailor  boarders  were 
fit  to  eat  their  Christmas  dinner,  cooked  for  at  least 
twenty,  and  I can  truthfully  say  that  this  was  the 
first  and  last  Christmas  dinner  where  I had  more 
roasted  turkey  legs  than  I could  master.  Next  day 
the  boss  came  to  Frenchy  and  told  him  he  had  a 
job  for  him,  to  serve  as  a cook  on  a sailing  vessel 
bound  to  South  American  ports.  Frenchy  was 
obliged  to  accept  the  offer,  but  as  the  ship  was  not  to 
sail  until  after  New  Year’s  there  were  plenty  of 
chances  for  him  to  come  back  to  the  shore  and  join 
me  at  some  other  place. 


Chapter  VIII. 

Why  I Was  Called  “A-No.  1.” 

BEFORE  leaving,  Frenchy  came  to  me  and  gave 
me  his  final  instructions.  “ Listen,  Kid,”  said 
he,  “ Every  tramp  gives  his  kid  a nickname,  a 
name  that  will  distinguish  him  from  all  other  mem- 
bers of  the  craft.  You  have  been  a good  lad  while 
you  have  been  with  me,  in  fact  been  always  ‘ A-No.  1 ’ 
in  everything  you  had  to  do,  and,  Kid,  take  my 
advice,  if  you  have  to  be  anything  in  life,  even 
if  a tramp,  try  to  be  ‘A-No.  1’  all  the  time 


M I want  you  to  be  ‘A-No.  15  in  whatever  you  do 
and  wherever  you  are.” 


46  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

and  in  everything  you  undertake.”  Here  he 
paused  a moment  as  if  thinking,  then  he  con- 
tinued: “By  the  way,  Kid,  I believe  I have  a 
good  and  proper  nickname  for  you,  one  never  borne 
by  any  other  tramp,  I am  going  to  call  you  ‘ A-No.  1 
and  I want  you  to  live  up  to  its  meaning  in  what- 
ever you  do  and  wherever  you  are.”  Then  he  gave 
me  his  final  instructions:  “Leave  Pensacola  to- 
night and  catch  a ride  as  far  as  the  next  water  tank 
then  start  walking.  Walk  about  a mile  a day  and  on 
each  mile  post  mark  ‘A-No.  1.’  Mark  also  under 
your  monica  the  date,  and  below  it  an  arrow 
pointing  in  the  direction  you  were  travelling,  so  I 
can  find  you  quickly  when  I make  my  “get-away.” 
Further  he  made  me  promise  to  repeat  the 
prayer  he  taught  me  every  night  and  that  I would 
not  travel  with  another  partner  for  a whole  year 
under  pain  of  death  should  he  meet  me.  He  did  not 
need  to  scare  me  for  I knew  how  desperate  he  was. 
That  evening  I took  French  leave  from  “ Boss  ” Davis, 
from  Pensacola  and  from  my  partner  “Frenchy”, 
whom  I have  never  met  in  all  my  travels  since. 

I rode  to  the  next  tank  and  then  on  every  mile 
post  I put  the  mark  he  told  me — “A-No.  1”,  and 
kept  putting  that  mark  everywhere  since  that  date, 
thus  winning  my  world-famous  alias — “A-No.  1.” 
Arriving  one  morning  at  Funiak  Springs,  a place 
in  Western  Florida,  I picked  up  a small  piece  of 
paper  that  had  this  printed  on  it : “ One  thousand 

dollars  reward — Wanted  by  the  U.  S.  authorities  at 
Pensacola,  Florida — Cook  named  Murphy,  5 feet 
6 inches,  blue  eyes,  Irish  descent,  speaks  English 
with  foreign  accent,  for  robbery.  Crime  committed 
in  Pensacola  harbor,  on  board  full-rigged  sailing 


AMERICA'S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


47 


ship  “Anna  Lee,”  of  New  York,  by  dosing  crew  and 
captain  on  New  Year’s  eve,  1885,  with  knock-out 
drops,  and  robbing  the  captain’s  safe  of  3,000  pesos, 
Mexican  currency.  Any  information  wire  promptly 
to  United  States  Marshall,  Pensacola,  Florida.” 

Slowly  I followed  the  railroad  toward  the  east. 
I hoped  to  hear  from  Frenchy,  and  of  his  whereabouts 
but  none  of  the  newspapers  contained  any  reference 
to  his  capture,  nor  did  I see  his  sign  anywhere  along 
the  road. 

Reaching  Jacksonville,  Fla.,  I found  a letter 
from  home  waiting  for  me ; father  told  me  mother’s 
heart  was  breaking  and  that  she  wanted  me  to  come 
home.  He  begged  me  to  give  up  the  roving  life  and 
warned  me  that  the  end  would  be  a pitiful  one.  It 
was  very  cold,  and  not  wanting  to  write  for  money 
to  return  home  by  rail,  I promised  to  come  back  in 
the  summer. 

After  loafing  about  Jacksonville  and  Savannah 
for  a couple  of  weeks,  I went  to  Atlanta,  Ga.,  and 
by  selling  newspapers  paid  my  expenses. 

While  thus  making  a living  and  a little  above, 
one  day  I struck  up  an  acquaintance  with  a young 
man  named  Fred  Philpot — who  at  present  owns  one 
of  the  largest  grocery  stores  in  Georgia.  Fred  wanted 
to  join  me  on  my  trip  home,  as  he  thought  he  could 
. pick  up  gold  in  California.  I had  only  a few  dollars 
and  when  he  told  me  that  if  I would  first  go  to 
Savannah  with  him,  he  could  maybe  raise  fifty  or 
one  hundred  dollars  from  his  uncle,  who  was  then 
the  mayor  of  that  beautiful  city,  and  as  the  prospects 
for  us  to  pick  up  a little  easy  money  seemed  bright, 
we  tramped  to  Savannah.  Arriving  there  we  separ- 
ated, as  Fred  thought  he  could  work  his  uncle  better 


48  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

single-handed.  He  returned  after  a short  absence* 
not  with  cold  cash  or  crisp  currency,  but  with  his 
face  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  told  me  that  his  uncle 
had  been  overjoyed  at  the  unexpected  appearance 
of  his  nephew,  and  that  he  just  ached  to  meet  his 
nephew’s  partner,  and  had  sent  Fred  to  fetch  me  to 
his  presence.  I had  not  a tiny  inkling  that  any- 
thing should  be  wrong  and  followed  him  to  the  City 
Hall. 

His  uncle,  Mr.  McDonough,  was  the  Mayor  of 
the  city  sure  enough,  and  also  judge  of  Municipal 
Court;  and  no  sooner  had  I entered  the  building, 
than  a large  policeman  grabbed  me  and  took  me  up 
to  the  court  room.  His  Honor,  the  Mayor,  Judge 
and  Fred’s  uncle  all  combined,  was  waiting  especially 
for  me,  for  I could  see  blood  in  his  eyes.  After 
answering  several  questions  he  asked  me  how  much 
money  I had.  I answered:  “Seven  dollars  and 
twenty  cents.” 

“Now  then”  he  continued,  “young  man,  I 
cannot  put  a charge  of  vagrancy  against  you,  but 
my  nephew  here  says  you  induced  him  to  leave  a 
good  home  in  Atlanta  to  hobo  down  here,  and  it  is 
the  sentence  of  this  court  that  you  pay  his  way  back, 
or  work  thirty  days  breaking  stone,  convicted  on 
the  charge  of  being  a dangerous  and  suspicious  per- 
son in  the  city  limits  of  Savannah.” 

I paid  six  dollars  and  eighty  cents  for  my  part- 
ner’s ticket  home.  Instead  of  us  getting  fifty  or  one 
hundred  dollars,  I nearly  received  thirty  days,  for 
that  fool  fellow  told  his  uncle  that  I enticed  him  from 
home.  I was  thirteen  years  old  then,  he  was  over 
eighteen,  and  nearly  a foot  taller  than  myself.  I 
was  afraid  to  go  back  by  the  way  of  Atlanta,  as  I. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  celebrated  tramp. 


49 


did  not  know  what  other  reception  I would  receive 
from  Fred’s  people.  So  after  I had  paid  his  passage 
home  seated  in  a comfortable  passenger  coach,  I 
walked  out  of  Savannah  as  quickly  as  I could  and 
headed  for  Charleston,  S.  C. 


Chapter  IX. 

“ Tramping  in  Europe.” 

ONE  day  soon  after  my  arrival  in  Charleston, 
while  lounging  about  the  wharves,  the  steward 
of  a German  steamer  accosted  me  and 
offered  me  a job  as  waiter  on  his  vessel.  I told  him 
that  I thought  I would  be  too  small  for  the  job  and 
further  that  I never  waited  on  tables  in  all  my  life. 
“ Ach,  mine  Gott,”  the  steward  assured  me,  “ it  is  such 
a nice  pleasant  job ; I’ll  see  that  you  don’t  have  to  wait 
at  all,  but  I want  you  to  give  me  half  of  your  pay 
when  you  get  it  in  Hamburg  where  we  are  going.” 
I thought  “Dutchy”  as  I will  call  him,  was  looking 
for  graft  and  accepted.  He  took  me  to  the  captain 
and  told  him  that  I was  the  new  waiter.  Says 
Dutchy,  “Ya,  ya,  Captain,  he  says  he  is  one  fine 
waiter,  and  I gives  him  a job.”  The  captain  promis- 
ed me  fifteen  dollars  for  the  trip  across  and  a pass 
back  to  the  States. 

In  a couple  of  days  the  steamer  finished  loading 
her  cargo,  consisting  of  phosphate  rock  and  we 


50  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

steamed  out  of  the  harbor.  Her  tonnage  was  about 
2500,  and  her  speed  not  over  eight  knots  an  hour. 
No  sooner  were  we  out  on  the  rough  Atlantic  Ocean, 
Dutchy  ordered  me  to  serve  coffee  to  the  officers 
upon  the  bridge.  I had  never  served  anything  in 
the  line  of  glassware  on  solid  soil,  and  with  the  old 
tub  of  a steamer  making  monkey  motions  in  four 
different  directions  underneath  my  feet  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  suddenly  I let  go  the  tray  of  china- 
ware,  silver  and  glass  in  four  different  curves,  all 
smashing  into  ten  thousand  different  pieces. 

“Mine  Gott,  mine  Gott,”  lamented  Dutchy,  so 
loudly  that  the  captain  heard  him  and  came  rushing 
back  and  cussed  me  terribly  for  my  awkwardness. 
“Ach,  mine  Gott,  Captain,”  lamented  Dutchy,  “he 
told  me  he  was  a waiter  of  the  first-class,  and  now 
he  smashed  everything.”  The  finish  was  that  I 
had  to  make  a clean  confession  that  I never  waited 
on  any  table  in  my  life,  and  as  a consequence  they 
put  me  to  work  as  a coal  passer  in  the  hot  boiler 
room.  I had  not  shoveled  coal  for  more  than  ten 
minutes  before  I discovered  by  listening  to  the  Ger- 
man conversation  of  the  firemen,  that  the  captain 
tried  to  hire  a coal  passer  in  Charleston,  but  none 
would  work  on  the  leaky  old  tramp  steamer,  and 
that  Dutchy,  the  steward,  really  hired  me,  not  to 
work  as  a waiter,  but  to  pass  coal. 

It  took  this  tub  of  a steamer  four  and  a half 
weeks  to  reach  Hamburg,  and  the  way  I looked  and 
the  condition  of  my  clothes  can  be  imagined,  after 
passing  coal  from  the  coal  bins  to  the  firemen  four- 
teen hours  a day  in  a dark  and  hot  boiler  room  dur- 
ing the  entire  trip.  Arriving  in  Hamburg,  the 
captain  had  the  cheek  to  hand  me  a ten  mark  bill 


America’s  Most  celebrated  tramp. 


51 


(two  dollars  and  fifty  cents)  with  the  remark: 

“ Mine  boy,  you  had  better  make  yourself  thin,  or  I 
will  have  you  arrested  as  a stowaway,  and  you  may 
be  sentenced  to  jail  for  a couple  of  years.” 

I never  expected  to  receive  even  the  ten  marks, 
and  as  I had  small  desire  to  get  the  rest  of  that  pay  I 
made  myself  “thin.”  I met  Dutchy  that  same 
afternoon  and  he  was  rather  drunk.  I was  a small 
boy  and  he  a very  large  man,  so  revenge,  less  than 
murder,  was  impossible,  and  so  I made  friends  with 
him.  “Ach,  mine  Gott,”  he  confessed,  “that  cap- 
tain was  a big  pig,  he  promised  me  five  dollars  if  I 
gets  him  a coal  passer,  and  now  he  only  gives  me  two 
dollars  and  fifty  cents,  as  he  says  you  was  too  small.” 
(And  he  laughed  about  his  cuteness  and  my  mis- 
fortune until  the  tears  trickled  down  his  face.  I 
jnever  forgot  this  lesson,  and  made  good  use  of  my 
new  hard  earned  knowledge  later  on. 

I hunted  for  a rooming  house,  and  after  finding 
one  to  suit,  handed  the  landlord  twelve  and  one- 
half  cents  (fifty  pfennig  in  German  money),  the 
price  he  asked  for  a week’s  lodging ; for  a nice  clean 
room,  as  well  as  everything  else  is  cheap  in  Europe. 
He  took  my  money  and  asked  me  to  show  him  my 
papers,  I stared  at  him  in  amazement,  and  he  then 
explained  that  he  would  be  fined  ten  cents  every  day 
he  kept  a person  who  was  not  registered  at  police 
headquarters.  As  I did  not  have  any  papers  to  show 
him,  he  promptly  called  a policeman,  and  at  head- 
quarters they  wanted  me  to  explain  how  I happened 
to  land  in  Hamburg,  and  all  in  rags  at  that.  My 
knowledge  of  the  German  language  taught  me  at 
lome  while  a little  kid,  came  handy,  and  I could  do 
this  in  their  own  tongue. 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
ILLINOIS  LIBRARY 


52 


Life  and  adventures  of  A-No.  l, 


After  pumping  and  finding  out  all  they  could 
from  me  they  handed  me  a cardboard  about  six  by 
six  inches,  all  stamped  upon  and  spaced  off,  and 
having  my  description  on  it,  my  whole  past  and 
present  (according  to  the  story  I told  them)  out- 
lined in  detail.  With  this  card  in  my  possession  I 
returned  to  my  landlord,  and  after  glancing  over 
my  printed  pedigree  he  seemed  kindness  personified. 
At  his  place  I made  the  acquaintance  of  some  German 
tramps,  who  told  me  thrilling  stories  about  the 
beautiful  interior. 

After  I had  spent  my  last  penny  I struck  up  a 
partnership  with  one  of  them,  and  we  started  to 
walk  to  Berlin,  first  having  our  papers  stamped.  My 
partner  had  a “wander”  card  as  it  was  called,  just 
like  mine,  only  his  was  all  stamped  up  so  that  it 
could  hardly  be  deciphered. 

In  Germany,  a hobo,  if  caught,  gets  one  year  at 
hard  labor  for  walking  on  the  track,  and  I believe 
it  is  life  for  riding  on  trains.  Hence  the  German 
tramps  never  ride.  They  all  walk  the  pikes,  which 
are  nicely  kept  and  are  centuries  old,  and  we  met 
hundreds  daily.  Everywhere  we  were  received 
kindly,  especially  when  my  partner  told  them  I was 
an  American.  I found  that  nearly  all  had  relatives 
in  the  States,  and  such  questions  as  these  were  usual- 
ly popped  at  me:  “Do  you  know  Henri  in  Minne- 
sota, and  Jacob  in  New  York,  and  John  in  Chicago, 
and  one  old  lady  wanted  to  know  if  I knew  her 
nephew  ‘Herman,’  in  California”.  Of  course  I 
I knew  them  all,  and  they  were  getting  rich,  so  by 
saying  this  they  all  treated  us  nicely  and  we  had 
plenty  to  eat,  but  very  little  money  as  all  they  give 
are  coppers,  and  it  takes  four  of  these  to  make  an 


America’s  Most  celebrated  tramp. 


53 


honest  American  cent.  We  were  stopped  every  few 
miles  by  mounted  police,  who  would  put  their  mark  or 
stamp  on  our  cards.  These  cards  entitled  us  to 
stay  twenty-four  hours  in  one  place  but  no  longer, 
unless  hunting  a job,  and  further  they  gave  us  a 
night’s  lodging  in  every  municipal  lodging  house, 
and  what  was  best,  allowed  us  to  beg  without  moles- 
tation, “as  we  were  supposed  to  be  out  of  work.” 

The  German  tramp  is  about  the  meanest  piece 
of  humanity  I ever  met.  They  have  no  friendship 
for  one  another,  and  are  so  low  that  they  will  keep 
part  of  their  hand-outs  and  sell  them  to  others,  less 
fortunate,  for  a few  coppers  at  the  lodging  places.  A 
pipe  full  of  tobacco,  matches,  cast-off  rags,  and  even 
old  cigar  stumps  have  a money  value.  The  maxim 
of  the  German  tramp  is  to  look  as  ragged  as  possible 
so  as  to  show  his  hard  luck  from  the  outside,  and 
thus  to  be  pitied  the  more  by  the  people.  Ragged 
American  Gay  Cats  look  like  dudes  compared  with 
the  German  brand.  They  walk  from  morning  till 
night,  and  I don’t  blame  their  government  for  keep- 
ing trace  of  them,  as  they  might  become  lost.  There 
is  no  honor  or  kindness  among  them — everybody  for 
himself. 

After  more  than  two  weeks  of  tiresome  walking 
we  reached  Berlin  at  last,  but  had  hardly  passed  the 
city  limits  when  we  were  picked  up  by  a policeman 
and  taken  to  headquarters.  As  we  were  unable  to 
show  that  we  had  been  employed  anywhere  recently, 
they  gave  us  each  forty-eight  hours  in  jail  as  pun- 
ishment for  too  much  loafing.  They  treated  us  well 
however.  It  was  more  like  a home  than  a jail.  We 
were  given  five  meals  a day,  and  after  two  days’ 
experience  along  these  lines  they  turned  us  loose, 


54 


Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 


not  forgetting  to  add  their  record  to  our  cards  by 
the  addition  of  a few  more  pretty  seals.  They  also 
gave  us  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  hunt  for  work, 
after  which  time  we  would  have  to  leave  the  city. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  while  passing  through  a 
park  I overheard  two  gentlemen  speaking  English. 
They  happened  to  be  Yankees  just  arrived  from  the 
other  side.  I told  them  my  experiences  thus  far  in 
Europe,  and  they  each  handed  me  a five  dollar  bill, 
forty  marks  in  German  money,  four  thousand  of 
those  coppers  all  in  a bunch.  If  ever  Providence 
turned  up  a good  thing  for  me  it  happened  right  there. 
I skipped  my  German  partner,  and  went  down  to  the 
railroad  station,  exchanged  my  money  into  German 
currency  and  bought  a ticket  (fourth-class)  to 
Hamburg,  one  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents  for  two 
hundred  and  thirty-five  miles!  It  was  cheap — a 
fourth-class  passage  needed  to  be.  First-class  had 
velvet;  second-class,  leather;  third-class,  wooden 
seats;  but  fourth-class  had  no  seats  at  all,  and  no 
springs  either,  and  the  windows  are  barred  to  keep 
people  from  falling  out  or  trying  to  escape  from  the 
rattling  torture  “wagons,”  as  passenger  coaches 
are  called  in  Germany,  very  appropriately.  Cheap 
rate,  but  oh,  how  slow!  Ten  hours  on  a rough  track 
Upon  reaching  Hamburg  I applied  for  a room  at  my 
old  place,  but  the  landlord  would  not  take  me  in 
again,  as  I had  added  a genuine  jail  stamp  to  my 
record. 

I loafed  about  Hamburg  until  the  middle  of 
June,  getting  plenty  to  eat  and  small  sums  of  money 
from  crews  of  English,  French  and  American  steamers 
and  sailing  ships,  there  being  hundreds  in  port  all 
the  time.  I saved  every  cent  possible,  so  as  to  have 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


55 


enough  money  to  pay  my  way  back  to  the  States.  I 
had  nearly  the  necessary  sum  to  start  for  New  York  as 
a steerage  passenger,  when  one  day  a man  who  hired 
ship  labor,  inquired  if  I could  wait  on  tables.  I 
thought  there  was  another  chance  to  be  buncoed,  so 
for  the  fun  of  it  I answered  in  the  affirmative. 

Next  day  a steward  of  a cattle  steamer  bound 
for  Boston  called  at  my  lodging  house.  He  looked 
me  over  and  told  the  other  man  he  thought  I was  too 
small.  He  asked  me  to  try  and  find  him  a waiter. 
The  pay  was  five  dollars  for  the  trip  across  to  Boston. 
I would  have  gone  for  nothing,  even  in  the  coal  hole, 
if  I could  have  thus  landed  back  in  the  States,  as  the 
twenty-three  dollars  I had  saved  would  fix  me  up 
nicely  with  new  clothes  on  the  arrival  there.  I took 
the  steward  to  one  side  and  told  him  what  a fine 
waiter  I was,  and  how  I could  juggle  a tray  full  of 
dishes,  and  how  I had  been  a waiter  at  one  time  on, , 
a German  tramp  steamer,  etc.,  etc.  He  would  not 
listen,  but  when  I offered  him  one-half  of  my  wages 
for  the  chance,  he  bit. 

Next  morning  he  called  again  at  my  rooming 
house  and  made  me  sign  a contract,  only  my  pay 
was  to  be  seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents  for  the  trip,  thus 
making  his  own  one-half  share  worth  more.  I car- 
ried a canvas  bag  full  of  my  belongings  aboard,  and 
that  afternoon  we  left  Hamburg  and  Europe,  bound 
for  Boston.  I waited  on  the  table  that  evening, 
and  as  long  as  we  steamed  down  the  Elbe  for  nearly 
a hundred  miles  to  its  mouth  and  had  smooth  river 
water  underneath  all  went  well,  ’though  I was  a 
little  awkward ; but  as  we  passed  into  the  North  Sea, 
the  stormiest  part  of  the  Atlantic,  I became  awfully 
seasick,  and  could  not  stand  on  my  feet,  let  alone 


56  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

juggle  trays  and  had  to  go  to  bed.  When  I com- 
menced to  get  over  the  sickness,  I remembered  a 
receipt  Frenchy  used  when  he  was  in  State’s  Prison, 
and  didn’t  feel  like  working;  I dissolved  a little 
soap  in  a glass  of  water  and  swallowed  it.  It  made  me 
sick,  and  I soon  began  to  look  so  much  like  a ghost 
that  they  put  me  into  a good  nice,  clean  cabin,  and 
provided  me  the  best  of  food  to  save  me  from  dying. 

I must  acknowledge  I wasn’t  feeling  very  fine, 
for  soap  and  water  isn’t  intended  for  human  diet. 
Still,  sick  as  I was,  I enjoyed  the  trip  to  Boston,  an 
even  twelve  days.  A waiting  ambulance  took  me 
to  a naval  hospital,  but  before  leaving  the  ship  the 
purser  paid  me  seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents.  The 
steward  seeing  he  could  not  filch  a cent  of  the  money, 
gave  me  a cheerless  send-off,  as  he  had  to  play  waiter 
himself  all  the  way  across  tfie  Atlantic  besides  at- 
tending to  all  his  other  duties.  I had  the  twenty- 
three  dollars  that  I had  sewed  into  the  fining  of  my 
pants  besides,  and  after  remaining  in  the  hospital  a 
couple  of  days  to  get  over  the  effects  of  the  soap  and 
water  diet,  I took  French  leave.  I had  surely 
squared  my  account  with  Dutchy,  and  the  coal 
passer  lesson,  six  months  previous,  turned  to  some 
good  after  all. 

I hit  the  Boston  & Albany,  bound  for  home, 
happier  than  a bird,  and  the  way  I jumped  on  and 
off  the  cars  while  in  motion  was  a caution;  one 
brakeman  thought  I was  turning  crazy,  but  it  was 
only  to  get  myself  limbered  up  for  the  overland  trip. 
In  just  two  weeks  after  leaving  Boston  I landed  in 
San  Francisco.  My  parents  were  overjoyed  to  have 
me  back  safe  and  alive.  As  I had  yet  a few  dollars 
left,  and  had  lots  of  stories  to  relate  they  forgave  me. 


America's  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


57 


For  two  weeks  I stayed  at  home  and  enjoyed  my- 
self to  the  limit,  then  the  ‘ 4 Wanderlust  ’ ’ made  me  dis- 
satisfied and  restless,  and,  to  appease  my  craving  to 
move  on,  I took  a trip  to  Victoria,  British  Columbia. 


Chapter  X. 

“A  Honjeless  Outcast.” 

P to  this  time  I had  good  parents  and  a comfort- 


able home  to  be  sent  to  should  I have  an  acci- 


dent or  other  unforseen  serious  troubles,  but 
through  my  own  pranks  I spoiled  this  last  refuge.  I 
drifted  about  in  the  Pacific-Northwest  until  one  day 
I met  a commercial  traveler  inPortland,  Oregon,  who 
■was  acquainted  with  my  parents  and  upon  his  in- 
quiries, what  I was  doing  so  far  away  from  San 
Francisco,  I told  him  that  I was  “stranded”  among 
strangers  without  a cent  to  my  name.  He  insisted 
on  my  accepting  twenty  dollars  from  him  to  pay  for 
my  ticket  home,  besides  this,  he  bought  for  me  a lot 
of  nice  clothes,  meals,  etc.  Instead  of  going  home, 
in  my  boyish  foolishness,  I figured  that  where  such 
“easy”  money  came  from  in  such  unexpected  man- 
ner, there  should  be  plenty  more  to  be  gathered. 
I recalled  that  father  had  a wealthy  cousin  living  in 
Salem,  Oregon,  and  I made  the  first  train  to  that 
city,  and  reiterated  to  him  my  hard-luck  tale  with  the 
result  that  he  gave  me  twenty-five  dollars. 

I met  many  other  people  and  worked  them  all, 
first  having  been  promised  that  they  would  not 


58  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

reveal  my  plight  to  my  parents  and  that  I should 
1 repay  the  loans  without  their  ever  knowing  about 
my  temporary  difficulty.  Money  came  thick  and 
fast;  everybody  wanted  to  help  me.  I borrowed 
every  chance  I found,  and  my  parents  being  prom- 
inent in  society  and  wealthy,  it  was  only  natural  that 
all  tried  to  do  the  square  thing.  To  my  sorrow  I 
found  out  later  that  every  one  of  these  persons  wrote 
to  my  people,  telling  how  they  met  me  begging,  starv- 
ing and  dead  broke,  and  what  they  each  had  done 
for  me  to  send  me  home. 

When  I returned  to  San  Francisco  in  September, 
1885,  I found  my  parents  at  home,  and  my  father 
called  me  into  the  library,  and  closing  the  door  after 
I entered  addressed  me  thus : “ Well,  sir,  you  are  a 
disgrace  to  the  good  name  of  our  family — a family 
hitherto  respected  by  all.  I will  give  you  just  one 
hour  to  leave  the  city.  If  you  have  not  taken  your- 
self out  of  my  sight  by  that  time  I will  have  you 
arrested  and  placed  in  a reform  school,  there  to  re- 
main until  you  are  twenty-one  years  old.  Do  not 
attempt  to  enter  this  house  again.  There  is  the  door. 
Now,  get!  ” 

Thus  I was  turned  from  my  father’s  door,  my 
future  ruined  through  wild  and  heartless  pranks. 
They  are  still  residents  of  San  Francisco,  respected 
and  wealthy;  I,  their  only  son,  am  an  outcast, 
homeless  and  nameless  tramp. 

After  this  unpleasant  interview  with  my  father 
I knew  it  would  be  useless  for  me  to  beg  forgiveness, 
or  to  promise  to  behave  myself  and  to  do  better  in 
the  future.  He  was  very  stern,  once  his  anger  was 
aroused,  and  he  would  surely  keep  his  promise  and 
send  me  to  the  state  reformatory  if  I did  not  leave. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


59 


With  a heavy  heart  I went  to  my  room  to  pack  up 
the  few  belongings  I wished  to  carry  away  with  me. 

While  thus  engaged  my  mother  quietly  entered. 
“Leon,”  she  said,  “you  are  our  all;  you  are  break- 
ing my  heart,  but  I am  ready  to  forgive  you.  Have 
we  not  done  our  duty  by  you?  Have  we  not  done 
everything  to  teach  you  the  straight  path?  You 
had  everything  money  could  command,  still  you  are 
turning  to  the  bad.  Why  should  you  do  this  and 
bring  dishonor  to  our  old  age?” 

Her  sorrow  was  pitiful.  Oh,  how  I longed  to 
have  father  give  me  one  more  chance.  “Mother,” 
I sobbed,  “ Darling  mother,  forgive  me  the  evil  deeds 
I have  done,  and  I will  try  and  make  amends.  I 
confessed  to  her  that  I had  tried  to  settle  down  to  a 
steadier  life  many  times,  but  that  every  time  I did 
so,  it  was  only  a matter  of  hours  before  I felt  the 
“ Wanderlust  ” prodding  me  until  I ran  away  to  other 
sights  and  scenes.  I promised  her  I would  try  hard 
to  stop  roving,  and  if  I did  to  let  her  hear  from  me. 

“Why  not  now,  Leon?”  she  pleaded  with  her 
arms  around  my  neck.  I hesitated  a moment,  then 
answered  sorrowfully;  “No,  mother,  not  now.  I 
can’t.  The  ‘Call  of  the  Road’  is  urging  me  on- 
ward so  strangely  and  strongly,  that  I cannot 
resist,  but  some  day,  mother,  I will  stop  roaming, 
and  then  I will  take  care  of  you.” 

Hardly  had  I uttered  the  last  word,  when  with 
a scream  she  reeled  and  fainted.  I hastily  picked 
up  my  little  bundle,  and  kissing  mother  for  the  last 
time  on  the  forehead,  I ran  down  to  the  kitchen  to 
tell  the  cook  mother  was  sick  up  in  my  room,  to  hurry 
and  help  her.  Then  I hastily  left  the  house. 


60 


Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 


Letters  I wrote  came  back  unopened.  They 
were  never  answered,  and  never  to  this  day  have  I 
been  able  to  hear  from  home.  Twenty-five  long 
years  of  remorse;  twenty-five  long  years  of  re- 
pentance ; twenty-five  long  years  trying  to  keep  the 
promise  I made  mother  long  ago.  What  a terrible 
punishment  to  be  condemned  to  flit  restlessly  over 
the  face  of  the  earth  hither  and  yon,  a homeless, 
nameless  wanderer. 


Chapter  XI. 

“Robbed  by  Tramps.” 

ITHOUT  a single  idea  which  way  to  turn  I 


left  San  Francisco.  I caught  a train  going 


towards  Los  Angeles,  intending  to  put  as 
many  miles  between  myself  and  home  as  possible. 
After  two  days  out  I made  the  acquaintance  of  two 
neat  looking  young  fellows  bound  for  the  same  city. 

That  evening,  while  we  were  riding  in  a box  car, 
they  grabbed  me  from  behind,  and  tied  my  hands 
and  feet.  After  that  they  took  every  cent  I had, 
my  hat,  shoes  and  the  suit  of  clothes  I had  on.  Then 
they  tried  to  throw  me  out  of  the  door  while  the  train 
was  running  fast.  I begged  them  for  my  life,  as  only 
one  could  who  is  about  to  be  killed,  and  they  took 
pity  on  me.  They  gagged  me  by  stuffing  a red 
handkerchief  into  my  mouth,  and  then  dragging  me 
into  a comer  left  me  helpless,  while  they  jumped  from 
the  car  at  the  next  stopping  place. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


61 


There  I lay  until  two  o’clock  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  next  day,  when  a railroad  man,  who  by  chance 
happened  to  look  into  the  car,  discovered  me  and  cut 
the  cords  which  bound  me.  I told  him  what  had  hap- 
pened, but  he  told  me  to  keep  quiet  about  it,  as  I 
could  never  get  the  fellows  convicted.  “Further- 
more,” he  added,  “if  we  could  catch  them,  you 
would  have  to  wait  here  three  or  four  months,  until 
the  next  trial,  and  possibly  they  would  lock  you  all 
into  one  and  the  same  cell  together,  so  you  better 
keep  quiet.” 

After  this  experience  I became  even  more  care- 
ful, and  hardly  ever  spoke  to  or  traveled  with  tramps. 
The  railroad  man  gave  me  a suit  of  greasy  old  over- 
alls and  an  old  cap,  and  thus  equipped  I started  for 
Los  Angles.  I was  in  the  Mojave  Desert  and  unable 
to  beg  even  a pair  of  shoes. 

Upon  reaching  Bakersfield,  Cal.,  early  one  morn- 
ing I saw  a tramp  at  a camp-fire,  and  went  over  to 
warm  myself  a little.  “Kid,”  said  the  tramp, 
“where  did  you  leave  you  shoes?”  I told  him  I was 
held  up,  and  he  gave  me  a good  pointer. 

“ I will  put  you  wise,  Kid,”  he  said,  “if  you  will 
give  me  the  booze  they  hand  you.”  I promised  to 
do  so,  and  he  continued:  “The  county  jail  is  a 
‘boodle  proposition,’  and  say,  Kid,  you  get  yourself 
pinched  and  they  will  do  the  square  thing  by  you.” 

Acting  upon  his  advice,  I approached  the  first 
deputy  sheriff  I saw  and  begged  for  my  breakfast. 
He  asked  me  how  I would  like  to  be  arrested.  I 
blinked  my  eyes  and  told  him  I was  next,  and  willing 
to  take  the  chance.  He  took  me  to  the  jail,  and  gave 
me  a nice  warm  breakfast,  made  out  some  papers 
and  then  took  me  to  the  judge’s  office.  The  judge,  a 


62  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

white  haired,  solemn  looking  rascal  sentenced  me  to 
a fine  of  thirty  dollars  and  thirty  days  in  jail  for 
vagrancy.  The  deputy  took  me  back  to  jail  and 
locked  me  in  a cell.  I commenced  to  feel  uneasy, 
and  thought  maybe  I had  fallen  into  a trap  again. 

An  hour  passed  away  that  seemed  ages,  then  the 
deputy  returned  and  after  cautioning  me  not  to 
speak,  he  took  me  to  a shoe  store  where  he  bought 
me  a pair  of  nice  shoes,  then  on  the  way  back  to  the 
jail  he  gave  me  a dollar  and  a big  bottle  of  whiskey, 
and  told  me  to  hustle  out  of  town  by  side  streets  and 
alleys  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  not  to  forget  to 
call  again  some  other  time.  I was  overjoyed,  for  I 
now  had  shoes  and  a dollar  besides.  I hustled 
back  to  the  camp  and  delivered  the  booze  to  the 
tramp  who  had  told  me  what  to  do. 

“Well”,  he  asked,  not  satisfied  with  the  booze 
alone,  “ didn’t  they  hand  you  any  dough  ?”  I denied 
having  received  money.  “We  big  ones,”  he  con- 
tinued, “usually  get  a five  dollar  note,  but  they  are 
getting  scared,  as  some  of  us  have  been  pinched  too 
often.” 

I asked  him  why  the  officials  did  this,  and  he 
explained  it  as  follows:  “Ah,  Kid,  you  aint  wise  at 

all.  They  have  these  boodle  jails  all  over  the  United 
States.  It’s  graft,  Kid,  don’t  you  see?  They 
fined  you  thirty  dollars  and  thirty  days ; you  can’t 
pay  the  thirty  dollars,  but  the  sheriff  gets  one  dollar 
a day  for  every  day  you  are  supposed  to  be  locked 
up;  the  judge,  five  dollars  for  your  sentence;  the 
lawyer,  five  dollars  for  your  conviction;  the  clerk, 
five  dollars  for  your  commitment,  and  the  deputy- 
sheriff  five  dollars  for  arresting  you,  so  you  see  it  is  all 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


63 


graft.  None  of  them  receive  a regular  salary,  so  an 
officer  has  to  steal  all  the  fees  he  can  to  make  a 
living.” 


Chapter  XII. 

“ Why  Permit  Men  to  Become  Tramps  ? ” 

I KNEW  after  listening  to  his  explanation  of  this 
graft- jail,  that  the  man  was  of  a more  superior 
intelligence  than  the  average  tramp,  and  think- 
ing that  perhaps  I could  get  some  valuable  informa- 
tion, I sat  down  to  the  camp-fire. 

After  he  had  taken  several  hearty  pulls  out  of 
the  bottle  I had  delivered,  he  remarked:  “Kid, 

if  I were  in  your  hide,  I would  beat  it  ‘hot  foot’  off 
the  road,  for  we  older  ones  know  there  is  no  stopping 
once  you  get  a good  start.”  I assured  him  that  I 
would  take  the  very  first  job  offered,  and  he  patted 
me  on  my  shoulder  and  said:  “That  is  right,  Kid, 
make  a man  out  of  yourself  before  it  is  too  late.” 
To  change  the  subject,  I asked  if  all  jails  were 
as  easy  as  this  one?  “Ah,  no  Kid,  this  one  is  an 
exception.  You  see,  not  many  tramps  have  lately 
travelled  up  and  down  this  line,  so  they  have  to 
‘double  up  tramps’  to  draw  enough  money  out  of 
the  county  treasury  to  meet  their  grocery  bills  or 
go  to  work  the  same  as  other  folks  do.  Where  many 
tramps  pass  along  they  give  sentences  from  ten  to 
sixty,  with  an  average  of  thirty  days,  the  only  dif- 


64  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

ference  between  these  two  methods  is,  that  the  first 
gang  of  grafters  steals  outright,  while  the  other 
gang  has  an  actual  expense  of  perhaps  five  cents  a 
day  feeding  ‘ slops  ’ to  the  tramps,  so  you  see  there  is 
no  difference  in  the  game,  only  that  the  ‘honest’ 
grafters  pay  cash  to  the  tramps,  while  the  crooked 
bunch  feeds  them  a similar  amount  gradually,  and 
usually  mistreat  their  poor  victims  besides;  but 
you  see  the  latter  style  of  grafting  is  the  safest,  as  it 
is  done  under  the  pretense  of  lawful  punishment.”' 

Here  I asked : “ If  those  thirty  days  imprison- 
ment did  not  reform  some  of  the  tramps?”  This 
innocent  inquiry  roused  his  ire.  “Nixie  Kid,  ” he 
retorted,  “Reform?  None  of  such  wise  talk  from  a 
little  ‘Gunsel’  (young  boy)  like  you.  Reform  a 
fellow  by  locking  him  up  for  thirty  days  and  never 
speak  one  word  of  encouragement  to  him  all  this  time ; 
never  give  him  advice  for  his  future  good  ? No,  none  of 
that,  but  on  the  contrary,  turn  him  out  after  his  time 
is  up,  lousy  as  a cuckoo ; almost  certain  to  be  infected 
with  some  dangerous  disease;  hungry  as  a starved 
wolf;  ragged  and  filthy  to  the  very  limit;  without 
a cent,  without  a job  or  friendly  lift  of  any  kind,  and 
branded  an  ex-convict  in  the  eyes  of  society.  Do 
you  call  this  reforming  him?  Nixie,  Kid,. instead  of 
reform  they  stamp  indelibly  upon  his  mind  the 
words  of  the  avenger  from  the  Genesis  of  the  Holy 
Bible:  ‘An  eye  for  an  eye  and  a tooth  for  a tooth,’ 
and  instill  a lasting  hate  against  those  who  counte- 
nance such  humbug,  under  the  guise  of  antiquated 
laws,  and  with  a vengeance  he  spreads  the  vermin 
and  diseases  to  repay  society  for  his  incarceration.” 
And  he  added:  “Many  a case  of  tuberculosis  in 


■ 


1 

i 

|i 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


65 


66  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

wealthy  families  can  be  directly  traced  back  to  a tramp 
who  had  been  imprisoned  in  an  unsanitary  jail.” 
Here  I interrupted  him  again  by  asking  if  he 
thought  the  “rock-pile”  and  other  kindred  punish- 
ments would  prevent  tramping?  “ Nixie,  Kid,”  he  re- 
plied, “there  is  absolutely  no  cure  for  tramping  except 
a tramp  quits  himself  in  disgust.  Some  folks,” 
he  continued,  “ come  to  tramping  just  as  natural  as 
others  to  hunting  elephants  and  lions ; playing  golf, 
racing  horses  or  automobiles;  swimming,  hunting, 
preaching,  fishing,  go  crazy  on  baseball  and  prize 
fighting,  smoking  and  chewing  tobacco,  dipping 
snuff  and  enjoy  these  and  thousands  of  other  strange 
notions  to  the  limit,  each  of  which  would  cause  the 
‘tired  feeling’  if  not  disgust  in  a different  set  of 
people,  who  in  turn  have  other  faults  of  their  own, 
and  let  me  tell  you,  Kid,”  he  added  with  emphasis, 
“ it’s  another  queer  fact  that  one  fellow  always  spots 
the  other  fellow’s  faults,  fibs  and  fancies  and  over- 
looks that  he  is  demented  on  one  or  more  subjects 
himself.  And  about  the  rock-pile  and  farm-colonies 
being  reformatory  and  a detriment,  I guess  not  my 
lad.  For  scores  of  years  down  in  the  Southern 
States  they  have  sentenced  tramps  and  ‘out-of 
works’  to  months  and  even  years  at  the  most  dan- 
gerous and  hardest  labor  under  revolting  conditions, 
in  coal  mines,  farms  and  lumber  camps  owned  by 
wealthy  individuals  or  corporations  who  permit  their 
superintendents  to  mistreat  these  poor  ‘American’ 
slaves  with  such  beastly  inhumanity  that  the  United 
States  Government  has  put  many  of  the  inhumane 
taskmasters  for  long  terms  into  federal  penitentiaries, 
where  their  fellow  convicts  plague  them  into  com- 
mitting suicide  or  if  half  a chance  offers  itself,  beat 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


67 


them  to  death.  Despite  this  wanton  cruelty  to 
human  beings  there  are  more  tramps  than  ever 
known  before  in  the  Southern  States,  and  what  is 
worse  is  the  fact,  where  formerly  only  three  per  cent, 
of  the  tramps' were  of  Southern  parentage,  now  90 
per  cent,  of  these  form  the  tramp  element  ‘down 
in  Dixie.’” 

Here  I interrupted  him  by  asking  if  there  yras 
not  some  remedy  to  curb  or  stop  tramping?  He 
quickly  replied:  “You  bet  there  is,  Kid,  and  a 
remedy  so  absolutely  cheap  that  it  never  will 
be  advocated  by  grafters  and  thpse  loathsome 
wretches,  who  make  a living  collecting  money  under 
the  pretense  of  assisting  and  reforming  tramps, 
as  there  is  no  money  to  be  made  in  its  application. 
And,  Kid,”  he  continued, do  you  know  that  the 
special  agents  of  the  railroads,  the  ‘railroad  cops’  as 
we  call  them,  have  applied  this  remedy  for  mQre 
than  a score  of  years  and  have  prevented  thousands 
of  lively  kids  becoming  tramps,  and  a burden  upon 
the  communities  in  one  form  or  another?  Yes,” 
he  continued,  earnestly  speaking,  when  he  noted 
an  incredulous  expression  flitting  across  my  face, 
as  Frenchy  had  preached  to  me  daily  that  the  rail- 
road police  were  the  tramps’  sworn  enemies,  “the 
railroad  cops  are  the  only  real  friends  the  tramps 
have,  and  not  until  you  become  an  habitual  tramp 
will  you  realize  this  fact,  for  they  apply  the  only 
sane  and  effective  remedy  to  stop  tramping,  and  at 
least  reduce  the  numbers  of  wanderers  to  the  mini- 
mum by  tackling  the  problem  by  its  root,  and  not 
like  all  others  do,  at  its  tail  end.  Just  wait,  my  boy 
until  I have  another  ‘ pull  ’ out  of  this  ‘ old  reliable  ’ 
before  I put  you  wise.” 


68  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

While  he  handled  the  whiskey  bottle,  I waited 
anxiously  for  him  to  resume  his  lecture,  for  had 
he  not  said  he  knew  a cheap,  sane  and  effective 
manner  to  stop  or  at  least  reduce  the  tramp  horde? 
This  seemed  strange  to  me,  for  that  it  is  the  public’s 
money  these  other  reformers  are  after,  is  easily 
proven  by  the  fact  that  in  one  place  tramps  are 
“ hunted  ” and  arrested,  while  perhaps  a mile  farther, 
or  towards  the  end  of  the  month  in  the  same  place,  he 
is  not  molested. 

“Before  I give  you  the  whole  business,  Sonny,” 
he  commenced  his  lecture  again,  “ let  me  tell  you  of 
an  example  that  is  far  better  than  all  the  printed, 
scientific  receipts  I ever  saw. 

“No  exhibit  ‘A’  and  ‘B’  for  mine,”  he  con- 
tinued,  “ only  plain  unspoiled  facts  I will  hand  you. 
Do  you  know  over  on  the  good  ‘ N.  Y.  C.’  (New  York 
Central  Railroad)  there  is  a railroad  cop  at  Pough- 
keepsie, New  York,  who  has  done  more  single-handed 
to  stop  tramping  than  all  the  rest  of  the  reformers 
put  together.  His  name  is  Furlong,  and  let  me  give 
you  a tip,  Sonny,  if  you  give  him  a chance  to  pinch 
you,  you  will  some  day  be  a Rockefeller,  Carnegie 
or  Morse  instead  of  a tramp.”  Here  he  laughed  at 
his  witty  remark  and  continued:  “Actually,  Kid, 
at  not  a single  cent’s  expense  to  the  tax  payers,  he 
does  it,  and  does  it  without  imprisonment  and  other 
senseless  and  old-fashioned  methods.”  Here  he 
stopped  to  resume  with  added  emphasis:  “He 

pinches  every  kid  under  sixteen  coming  from 
New  York  City  up  the  ‘N.Y.C.’  who  has  the  crazy 
notion  he  must  see  the  world  via  the  box  car  route, 
but  does  not  know  the  pitfalls  nor  the  dangers  of 
the  ‘Road’,  but  when  Furlong  gets  hold  of  him,  its 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp.  69 

only  a matter  of  hours  before  his  address  is  known, 
his  parents  notified  and  he  is  sent  home  on  the  next 
fast  train  making  no  stops  between  Poughkeepsie 
and  the  City,  but  not  before  Mr.  Furlong  has  given 
him  a heart  to  heart  lecture  that  would  have  melted 
a rock.  Should  his  parents  refuse  to  pay  for  his 
transportation,  the  ‘N.  Y.  C.’  does  it,  but  has  a 
special  agent  on  his  arrival  in  the  city  wait- 
ing to  escort  the  youngster  home,  and  there 
are  mighty  few  American  parents  so  unnatural 
as  not  to  try  their  level  best  to  keep  the  run- 
away kid  home  instead  of  permitting  him  to  de- 
generate into  a confirmed  vagabond.  Yes,”  he 
continued,  “ Furlong  sends  annually  on  an  average 
500  lively  lads  back  to  their  homes,  while  the  com- 
bined ‘catches’  of  all  railroad  cops  must  number 
into  thousands,  many  of  whom  are  sons  of  the  wealth- 
iest and  best  families ; sons  of  millionaires,  preachers 
and  all  other  professions  are  represented,  but  all 
are  of  a caliber  to  make  first-class  citizens,  who  are 
returned  home  before  they  even  become  acquainted 
with  ‘A’  of  the  tramp’s  ‘A.  B.  C.’,  and  Furlong  not 
alone  saves  the  country  at  large  500  recruits  to  the 
tramp  army,  but  deprives  5,000  additional  lads  of 
their  teachers,  for  instead  of  telling  their  playmates 
‘ around  the  comer’  how  he  did  it  and  how  it  is  done, 
the  story  usually  runs  in  this  vein:  ‘Kids,  you  see 
the  guy  up  on  the  N.  Y.  C.  chased  me  home  twice  now, 
my^seat  has  been  licked  so  blue  and  black  each  time  I 
return,  I reckon  I cannot  stand  any  other  home  com- 
ing, so  I guess  I will  stay  home  and  behave  myself,  i 

“Don’t  you  think,  Kid,”  he  added,  “that  this 
method  is  cheaper  otherwise,  for  even  if  the  kid  had 
to  be  sent  home  at  the  taxpayer’s  expense  four  or 


70  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

even  ten  times,  it  is  far  cheaper  in  the  long  run  than 
to  have  to  expend  $30.00  on  a trespass  trial  to 
punish  him  with  a jail  sentence  averaging  30  days, 
or  perhaps  still  later  in  the  future  have  to  pay  a 
jury  $24.00  per  day  and  all  the  other  costly  items 
connected  with  a criminal  court  trial,  and  when  he  is 
an  old  man,  there  is  always  the  certain  expenditure 
for  keeping  him  for  years  in  some  alms  house,  a 
pensioner  of  society,  to  end  there  his  useless  career. 
So  you  see,  my  lad,  that  Furlong  and  all  the  other 
railroad  cops  are  doing  the  right  thing  all  around, 
and  if  the  civil  and  railroad  officers  would  combine  to 
send  minors  under  sixteen,  home,  it  would  be  a long 
step  toward  solving  the  tramp  problem  by  striking 
at  its  root — * The  Kid  Tramp.’  ” 

After  a pause  and  several  hearty  drinks  out  of 
the  bottle  he  commenced  again:  “There  is  another 
source  of  tramp  supply  that  could  be  closed  up 
without  trouble  and  expense  to  anyone  for  the 
lasting  benefit  of  all  humanity.  It  would  prevent 
at  least  75  per  cent  of  tramps  from  becoming  tramps ; 
in  fact  it  would  close  the  biggest  source  that  makes 
the  lowest  class  of  tramps  and  bums  out  of  grown-up 
people,  and  these  are  the  ‘dives’  and  ‘hang-out’ 
saloons  in  the  slums  of  all  the  larger  cities.  Look 
at  me,  my  lad,”  he  rose  showing  his  superb  physique, 
“I  used  to  be  a mechanic  earning  over  $5.00  a day, 
and  now  I am  a tramp  and  a ‘Distillery  Tramp’  at 
that,  because  booze  and  the  tramping  ‘Wanderlust’ 
have  both  claimed  me.  Do  you  know,  my  boy,  how  I 
managed  to  fall  down  this  low?  Listen  and  I will 
tell  you.  I used  to  drink  many  a glass  of  beer  in 
certain  saloons  on  South  Clark  Street  in  old  Chicago. 
I never  would  have  thought  in  those  days  that  I 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


71 


would  be  just  as  low  as  'those  filthy  ‘ Sods  ’ I saw 
hanging  around  those  slums.  One  day  we  went  out 
on  a strike,  I didn’t  have  much  money  to  waste,  so 
drifted  down  to  the  free  lunch  counters  of  my  favor- 
ite saloons  and  there  came  in  close  contact  with 
those  sodden  bums  who  made  their  way  easier 
through  life  than  I thought  I did,  and  had  no  strikes 
to  contend  with. 

I struck  up  an  acquaintanceship  with  one  of 
the  cleanest,  who  himself  had  been  a good  mechanic 
in  his  day.  I watched  how  he  turned  the  trick,  imi- 
tated him  and  forgot  my  honest  trade  for  the  fife  of  a 
saloon  sod.  When  summer  with  its  hot  days  made 
things  unpleasant  in  those  slums,  I followed  the 
others  out  on  ‘the  road’,  and  now  I am  a ‘ Distillery 
Tramp  ’ for  the  rest  of  my  life,  because  while  away 
from  booze  and  the  city  I feel  more  like  a human 
being.  Laughing,  are  you,  kid?”  he  hotly  re- 
marked when  he  noticed  me  smiling  at  the  strange 
story  of  how  he  became  a tramp.  “ Kid,  you  don’t 
realize  yet  what  this  strange  something,  the  ‘Wander- 
lust’ means  until  it  holds  you  so  tight  you  cannot  break 
away.”  I became  strangely  silent  and  thought  of 
my  poor  mother  at  home,  and  the  promise  I had 
made  to  quit  the  “road”. 

He  continued,  “ I always  travel  alone  my  lad, 
but  if  the  officers  would  chase  away  gangsof  ‘Distillery 
Tramps  ’ hanging  around  stock-yards  or  thickets  close 
to  towns  and  cities  often  for  weeks,  as  fast  as  they 
spot  them,  they  would  do  another  long  step  towards 
the  elimination  of.  the  tramp,  as  the  camp-fire  bums 
draw  all  the  loafers  and  truants  for  miles  around  to 
their  hangouts  and  give  the  kids  their  practical 
initiation  into  the  mysteries  of  tramp  life.” 


72  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  l, 

, 

After  another  pause  he  continued:  “You  see, 
Kid,  there  are  the  ‘Kid  Tramps,*  the  ‘Distillery 
Tramps,’  and  last  the  ‘Scenery  Tramps,’  that's  the 
scale  of  my  figuring.  Send  the  Kid  Tramps  home 
by  return  mail,  not  to  jails  or  reformatories,  as  that 
will  spoil  them  beyond  recovery.  Keep  the  Dis- 
tillery Tramp  constantly  on  the  move,  forcing  him 
to  return,  disgusted  with  tramping  to  his  breeding 
place,  the  slum  saloons,  that  were  permitted  to 
make  him  and  thus  force  him  to  prey  upon  the  city 
which  permits  these  shameless  dens  and  dives  to 
exist  and  even  collects  license  money  from  them  in 
return  for  being  protected.” 

“What  sort  of  a tramp  is  the  ‘Scenery  Tramp’ 
you  mentioned  as  being  the  third  and  last  tramp 

class?”  I questioned  the  tramp. 

• 

“ Well,  Kid,”  he  replied,  “I  call  a ‘ Scenery  Tramp’ 
a confirmed  rover,  who  is  so  absolutely  restless,  that 
even  offers  of  a good  home,  easy  employment  at 
large  wages,  or  any  other  inducement  have  no  at- 
traction for  him,  as  he  craves  only  for  a constant 
change  of  scenery.  He  always  acts  as  if  someone  , 
was  hunting  him,  misses  meals  and  sleep  to  reach  a 
destination,  and  no  sooner  arrives  there,  than  he  is 
off  for  the  next  one.  Many  a ‘ Scenery  Tramp  ’ is 
bom,  with  a touch  of  the  ‘Wanderlust.’  His  parents, 
perchance  having  had  prenatal  intentions  to  change 
their  home  to  some  other  locality,  etc.,  and  if  these 
parents,  while  their  restless  kids  are  young,  would 
have  them  enlist  in  the  U.  S.  Navy,  many  a fine 
lad,  instead  of  being  a restless  drummer,  circus  fol- 
lower or  tramp,  would  be  a good  sailor,  wearing  the 
beautiful  uniform  of  Uncle  Sam’s  proud  navy.” 


I 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP.  73 

“How  can  you  stop  the  ‘Scenery  Tramp?’” 
I inquired. 

‘‘Well,  Kid,”  he  replied,  ‘‘he  is  a ‘goner’,  and  as 
long  as  he  keeps  on  the  move  and  harms  no  one,  let 
him  wander,  as  he  is  a confirmed  victim  of  the- 
‘Wanderlust,’  and  money  spent  on  him  in  any  shape 
or  form  is  absolutely  wasted,  as  75  per  cent,  of  them 
are  the  grown-up  ‘ Kid  Tramps  ’ who  were  permitted 
to  run  away  from  home.” 

Here  I asked  him  about  the  yeggmen.  “Say, 
Gunsel,”  he  retorted,  “them  guys  are  not  tramps  at 
all,  they  are  gun  toters,  a real  tramp  loves  his  liberty 
too  well  and  has  no  excuse  anyhow  to  carry  a gun; 
so,  my  lad,  when  you  hear  of  these  yeggmen  throw- 
ing tramps  naked  off  moving  trains  after  taking 
their  ‘duds’  (clothes)  from  them,  you  know  what 
‘good’  tramps  they  are.”  And  he  added:  “I  did 
wish  that  every  tramping  or  camping  tough-looking 
gun-toter  would  be  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  life, 
as  this  would  put  a mighty  sudden  stop  to  post- 
office,  box-car,  depot  and  bank  robberies  and  pre- 
vent many  wanton  murders  of  citizens  as  well  as 
tramps.” 

He  took  another  drink  out  of  the  bottle,  empty- 
ing it  and  after  he  smashed  it  with  a curse  against 
the  rails  he  finished:  “I  have  known  these  railroad 
cops  to  feed  many  a poor  fellow  they  picked  up  tres- 
passing, and  even  give  them  lifts  on  the  sly  to  leave 
town  without  walking  their  feet  sore,  and  they 
always  discriminate  between  the  man  in  search  of 
employment,  the  harmless  tramp  and  the  tough, 
never  molesting  the  first,  helping  to  move  on  the 
•second  and  making  things  unpleasant  for  the  third 


74  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

class,  because  they  receive  regular  salaries  from 
their  companies  and  do  not  benefit  financially  by 
adding  unnecessary  burdens  upon  the  communities  as 
for  instance  these  grafters  in  this  ‘Burg’  do  right 
here  in  broad  daylight.” 

The  campfire  had  almost  died  down  during  the 
tramp’s  recitation,  and  while  he  went  to  forage  for 
some  material  to  rekindle  the  fire,  I took  the  chance 
to  leave  him.  I resolved  then  and  there  to  accept 
the  very  first  chance  offered  to  go  to  work  and  thus 
escape  the  drama  he  had  protray ed,  and  he  had  said 
was  in  store  for  all  those  who  follow  “The  Call  of  the 
Road.” 


Chapter  XIII. 

“Trying  to  Reform.” 

I SWUNG  on  a brakebeam  under  the  very  first 
passenger  pulling  out  of  the  depot  toward 
Los  Angeles,  and  after  several  days  of  hard 
travel  over  the  Mojave  Desert  landed  in  that  city 
in  my  greasy  overalls. 

The  first  thing  I did  was  to  try  and  beg  some 
garments  and  by  chance  made  the  acquaintance  of  a 
benevolent  looking  captain  of  the  Salvation  Army. 
I told  him  the  true  story  of  my  misfortunes  and  how 
I came  to  look  so  wretchedly  dressed.  He  took  me 
to  a corner  in  a business  part  of  the  city,  and  made  an 
appeal  to  the  public  for  funds  to  help  dress  me  up. 
He  told  them  my  story  and  asked  all  to  chip  in.  He 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


75 


kept  on  speaking,  singing  and  begging,  and  told  them 
how  blessed  it  was  to  clothe  the  naked  and  feed  the 
hungry,  and  he  collected  over  thirty  dollars,  as  he 
had  me  to  substantiate  his  plea.  He  took  me  to 
a clothing  store  and  bought  me  a four  dollar  suit  of 
clothes,  a twenty-five  cent  cap,  fifty  cents  worth  of 
underwear  and  a twenty-five  cent  shirt,  and  told  me 
to  go  and  be  a good  boy.  I was  thankful  enough 
for  what  he  did,  but  I often  wondered  what  became 
of  the  balance.  Perhaps  he  bought  a twenty-five 
dollar  tailor  made  suit  for  himself. 

After  thus  coming  into  possession  of  a new  out- 
fit, I resolved  to  find  a job.  I found  an  advertise- 
ment in  a paper  calling  for  a bell-boy.  I was  ac- 
cepted and  my  salary  was  to  be  $3.50  a week  and 
board.  One  of  the  other  bell-boys  told  me  I could 
make  every  day  a dollar  in  tips,  and  I was  glad  to 
have  the  chance  to  break  my  roving  disposition  and 
earn  money  besides.  But  the  food  was  miserable 
— mutton  stew  for  every  breakfast;  veal  stew  for 
every  dinner  and  beef  stew  for  every  supper.  I had 
to  work  twelve  hours  daily,  running  up  and  down 
stairs,  as  there  were  no  elevators  in  those  days.  The 
week  I lasted  I received  just  thirty-five  cents  in  tips, 
had  to  pay  $2.00  for  my  own  room,  and  had  just 
twenty  cents  left  at  the  end  of  the  week. 

I quit  and  tried  for  another  job.  Next  I landed 
as  an  apprentice  in  a door  factory  at  $5.00  per  week. 
I had  to  work  and  hustle  from  seven  a.  m.  until  six 
p.  m.  At  the  end  of  the  week  I had  saved  a dollar, 
but  on  the  following  Monday  a little  boy  working  be- 
side me  had  his  hand  sawed  off  by  a band  saw,  and 
I heard  the  manager,  when  he  told  the  foreman  to 
hire  another  boy,  say : “ Don’t  get  a fool  like  the 


76  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

last  one,  he  hollered  too  much  when  he  got  hurt!” 
Before  I secured  this  job,  I had  to  sign  a paper  which 
prevented  me  from  recovering  any  damages  should 
I meet  with  an  accident.  Now  I saw  what  that 
meant — when  a lad  was  crippled  for  life  in  their 
establishment  they  objected  even  to  his  screams. 
Disgusted  I quit  the  job. 

Next  I found  employment  at  two  dollars  a day, 
picking  and  packing  oranges  at  an  orange  grove. 

■ In  my  dreams,  and  in  my  waking  moments  also,  I 
imagined  I saw  two  dollar  bills  flying  through  the 
air.  After  I had  worked  three  days,  rain  set  in,  and 
I had  to  be  idle  a whole  week  before  returning  to 
work.  Then  the  railroads  forgot  to  give  us  empty 
cars  in  which  to  ship  the  fruit,  and  tons  upon  tons 
already  picked  and  packed,  decayed.  Of  course  I 
could  not  wait,  so  quit. 

Next  I found  a job  with  a rancher.  His  ranch 
was  thirty  miles  across  a mountain  range,  and  he 
wanted  me  to  do  chores  around  his  place.  “ Why, 
Kid,”  he  told  me,  “ I’ll  give  you  three  dollars  a week, 
and  your  job  is  a dead  easy  pne ; all  you-  have  to  do 
is  to  help  my  wife,  ride  ponies,  go  hunting  and  fishing. 
You  bet  you’ll  like  it  all  right.” 

After  a drive  on  a prairie  schooner  for  two  days, 
up  and  down  mountain  trails,  we  at  last  reached  his 
ranch — low  board  shanties  for  houses  and  bams. 
My  chores  started  at  four  a.  m.  the  next  morning. 
I had  to  cut  wood,  milk  the  cows,  clean  the  stables, 
in  fact  was  busy  until  nine  at  night.  The  only  water 
around  was  a small  well,  so  between  catching  fish  out 
of  it  and  hunting,  tired  to  death,  my  bed  in  the  hay 
loft,  as  he  didn’t  have  room  for  me  in  his  own  shanty, 
I had  nothing  but  hard  work.  But  to  cap  the  climax 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP, 


: ' ' U - ' 


Wmm 


After  a drive  on  a prairie  schooner  up  and  down 
mountain  trails/' 


78  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

at  the  end  of  the  first  week,  the  rancher,  thinking 
perhaps  I would  be  afraid  to  walk  back  to  the  city 
through  the  coyote  infested  country,  handed  me 
fifteen  cents,  saying  at  the  same  time:  “That 
he  reckoned  my  work  was  not  worth  more.”  I 
indignantly  refused  to  accept  this  small  sum  and 
quit  right  there  and  then,  after  having  done  the 
hardest  week’s  work  in  all  my  life,  and  walked  back 
to  Los  Angeles,  almost  broken  hearted  at  the  treat- 
ment people  seemed  to  accord  me  everywhere,  I 
attempted  to  treat  them  on  the  “square”  in  my 
efforts  to  quit  the  road. 


Chapter  XIV. 

“Charity  Up-to-Date.” 

IT  was  a lojig  walk,  and,  as  the  road  was  sandy,  I 
had  a hard  time  to  drag  my  poor  tired  body  into 
the  City  of  Los  Angeles,  where  I arrived  not  only 
weak  from  hunger  but  crushed  in  spirit.  It  was 
after  supper  time,  and  as  I did  not  have  accent  to 
pay  for  food,  I applied  at  different  palatial  residences 
for  the  privilege  to  work  for  a few  bites  to  eat.  I 
rang  door  bell  after  door  bell  in  vain,  as  the  servants 
seeing  my  ragged  apparel,  worn  so  from  hard  and 
rough  jobs,  wouldn’t  even  open  the  door,  but  with 
frowns  on  their  faces  would,  through  the  glass,  order 
me  to  vacate. 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


79 


At  last,  when  nearly  on  the  verge  of  fainting,  a 
heathen  Chinese,  who,  in  California,  is  the  “ Irish 
cook,”  not  being  so  hard-hearted  as  his  Christian 
white  sisters,  opened  the  door,  and  I told  him  I 
wanted  to  see  his  mistress. 

“Boss  send  you?”  he  inquired. 

I told  him:  “Yes”. 

“ Boss,  him  all  right,  him  send  you,  you  all  right. 
Velly  well,  you  wait,  me  call  missus.” 

With  a rustling  of  fancy  silks,  the  lady  of  the 
stately  mansion  came  down  the  stairs,  evidently 
just  ready  to  go  to  some  ball,  astonished  at  seeing  a 
little  tough  and  rough  looking  lad. , I told  her  I 
was  starving  and  wanted  to  work  for  some  food. 
She  sent  her  Chinese  cook  up-stairs  for  her  pocket- 
book.  I saw  visions  of  one  of  Uncle  Sam’s  quarters; 
perhaps  she  would  give  me  a whole  dollar.  I would 
have  been  thankful  even  for  a nickel — the  smallest 
coin  then  in  circulation  in  California.  He  brought 
the  purse,  she  opened  it  and  after  handing  me  a 
small  card,  remarked;  “Don’t  bother  me,  I have 
no  time  to  look  after  beggars,  but  pay  annually 
$10.00  to  a charity  society  that  will  investigate 
your  case  and  treat  you  scientifically.”  Then  she 
closed  the  door,  with  a bang.  I studied  the  card. 
On  one  side  were  the  words  printed:  “The  Lord 
loves  a cheerful  giver.  Good  for  one  meal  if  de- 
livered to  The Charity  Society.  Mr. 

Jones,  Secretary.”  On  the  reverse  side  was  this 
legend:  “Thou  shalt  earn  thy  bread  by  the  sweat 
of  thy  brow.” 

There  in  plain  words  was  “good  for  one  meal” 
printed  on  my  card  and  directions  to  find  the  kitch- 
en. I took  new  courage  and  inquired  of  a passer- 


so  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

by  the  way  to  the  place — only  eighteen  blocks  south 
and  four  east.  I started  on  my  walk.  Visions  of 
a steaming  hot  supper;  promises  to  some  day  to 
repay  them  and  other  societies  a hundred  fold  for 
this  timely  aid  came  before  me. 

It  was  after  seven  o’clock  when  I found  the 
building^  over  the  entrance  of  which  was  a bright 

brass  sign:  “The ..Charity  Society,  Mr. 

Jones,  Secretary.  The  Lord  loves  a cheerful  giver.” 
I rang  the  door  bell  and  a seedy  dressed  old  gentle- 
man slowly  opened  the  door,  looking  carefully 
through  the  crack,  demanding  to  know  what  I 
wanted  so  late  at  night?  I asked  to  see  Mr.  Jones, 
then  he  wanted  to  know  if  I had  money  for  Mr. 
Jones,  and  not  understanding  him  correctly,  I ans- 
wered in  the  affirmative.  At  this  he  permitted  me  to 
enter  and  told  me  to  wait  in  the  office  while  he 
called  Mr.  Jones.  That  office  was  sure  a dandy  one. 
Fitted  up  more  like  the  office  of  a royal  prince  than 
that  of  a mere  secretary  of  a society  having  the 
legend  “Charity”  on  its  cards.  Beautiful  and  soft 
velvet  carpets  covered  the  floor,  the  furniture  was 
made  of  solid  mahogany,  there  was  also  a type- 
writer, a very  costly  machine  in  1885,  and  in  fact 
nothing  was  missing  to  make  it  a marvel  of  luxury. 

Just  then  a nicely  dressed,  benign  looking,  clean 
shaven  gentleman  entered  and  very  kindly  asked  me 
what  I wished  to  see  him,  Mr.  Jones,  about.  I 
handed  him  my  card  and  his  demeanor  changed  to  a 
frigid  one.  His  first  question  was : “ Why  I didn’t 
have  money  to  pay  for  my  meals?”  When  T told 
him  truthfully  how  the  rancher  had  swindled  me, 
he  dryly  remarked:  “The  same  old  lie,  only  a new 
variety.”  At  this  he  pulled  out  of  a drawer  a large 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


81 


sheet  of  printed  paper  and  read  at  least  a hundred 
questions  to  me,  that  he  marked  according  to  the 
answers  I gave.  I only  remember  that  I told  him 
my  parents  were  dead,  and  that  I was  alone  in  the 
world,  with  no  one  to  look  after  me,  as  I could  very 
truthfully  assert.  After  writing  and  crossing  out 
here  and  there  on  the  big  sheet,  he  rang  a bell  and 
the  same  seedy,  hungry  looking  individual  who 
opened  the  door  for  me  entered,  carrying  his  hat 
meekly  in  his  hands.  He  was  told  by  Mr.  Jones  to 
take  me  out  in  the  wood  yard  and  have  me  saw  a 
“little ’’wood. 

“ Of  course  you  want  to  earn  your  supper  and  a 
night’s  lodging,  my  boy.  Begging  kills  ambition, 
and  the  good  Lord  told  us  to  ‘ earn  our  bread  by  the 
sweat  of  our  brow’.” 

To  such  argument  I could  find  no  reply.  Hun- 
ger hurts,  and  I was  only  too  willing  to  do  a little 
work  for  a meal.  The  man  took  me  into  the  rear 
of  the  building,  which  was  surrounded  by  a high 
wall  and  lighted  by  lamps,  and  I was  told  to  start. 

I had  to  saw  old  tough  redwood  ties  into  stove 
lengths,  and  then  split  these  into  pieces.  For  three 
long  hours,  with  my  hands  nearly  bleeding  and 
covered  with  water  blisters,  I labored,  hoping  every 
minute  to  be  called.  At  last  I rebelled  and  knocked 
on  the  door.  The  janitor  opened  meekly  and  re- 
marked : “ Well,  boy,  you  are  a good  sawyer,  nearly 
cut  a cord  of  ties.”  He  took  me  into  the  kitchen 
and  gave  me  a large  bowl  of  cold  coffee  and  two 
large  slices  of  dry  bread.  He  excused  the  poor  meal 
on  account  of  lateness.  Only  a moment  and  bread 
and  coffee  had  disappeared.  I asked  for  another 
slice  of  bread,  and  he  told  me  the  cook  had  the  keys 


82  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

and  had  gone  home.  Then  he  took  me  up  stairs  and 
gave  me  a cot,  and  soon  I was  sound  asleep,  dreaming 
of  what  a strange  proposition  I was  up  against. 

At  six  a.  m.  I was  awakened  and  told  to  go  into 
the  wood  yard  again.  Again  I sawed  away  for  three 
hours,  and  thus  earned  my  breakfast.  The  secre- 
tary called  me  into  the  office  and  told  me  he  didn’t 
’ have  a job  for  me  just  then,  but  to  return  at  dinner 
time,  and  he  would  try  and  find  one  during  my 
absence. 

While  in  search  of  a job  I observed  an  elderly 
lady  planting  flowers  in  her  home  front  yard.  I 
asked  her  if  I could  not  assist  her  in  exchange  for  a 
meal.  She  readily  consented  and  in  less  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  I had  finished  my  task  to  her 
entire  satisfaction.  She  called  me  into  her  kitchen 
where,  after  washing  myself,  she  gave  me  a nice 
dinner.  Questioning  me  concerning  myself,  I told 
her  I had  to  split  wood  at  the  “Charity  Society” 
that  morning  during  the  very  hours  I ought  to  have 
been  hustling  for  one  of  the  jobs  advertised  in  the 
morning  papers.  “Oh  my  dear  boy,”  she  said, 
“there  have  been  many  poor  fellows  here  applying  for 
work  who  were  treated  the  same  by  the  Society.  I 
have  cancelled  my  own  membership,  and  instead  of 
having  the  fellows  work  over  there  have  them  do 
chores  around  my  house  and  feed  them  myself,  as 
I find  this  not  alone  to  be  cheaper,  but  also  I do  not 
believe  in  handing  a poor  fellow  a stone  when  he  asks 
for  bread.” 

At  2 o’clock  P.  M.,  unable  to  find  any  kind  of 
employment,  I went  back  to  the  Charity  Society. 
There  I was  told  that  if  I wanted  my  dinner  to  go 
out  and  saw  some  more  logs,  but  I said  I was  not 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


83 


hungry.  Mr.  Jones  asked  me  if  the  clothes  I wore 
were  all  I had,  and  I told  him  they  were.  He  took 
me  up  to  the  third  floor  and  opened  a door.  In  the 
room  several  old  ladies  were  busy  repairing  old 
garments.  We  entered  and  he  said  to  one  of  them: 
“Jane,  have  you  got  a suit  to  fit  this  kid?”  After 
a search,  she  found  a dandy  one  and  only  had  to 
shorten  the  pants  to  make  it  fit  me.  She  also  found 
a pair  of  fairly  good  shoes  and  a shirt.  The  secretary 
made  me  dress  up  and  sending  me  back  to  the  wood 
pile  said : “ If  you  cut  wood  until  supper,  you  can 
keep  the  suit,  if  not  you  will  put  on  your  old  gar- 
ments and  get  out.”  I understood  now  why  those 
high,  smooth  walls  with  the  iron  spikes  on  top  of 
them  were  around  the  yard.  I worked  slowly,  but 
by  the  time  I was  called  to  supper  a quantity  of 
wood  had  accumulated  higher  than  myself. 

After  a poor  supper,  I was  called  into  the  office. 
In  those  days  I was  a rather  good  looking  lad,  and  as 
I saw  my  new  outfit  in  the  large  mirrors  of  the 
secretary’s  bookcase,  I couldn’t  help  being  pleased 
with  my  appearance.  Just  then  a benevolent-look- 
ing lady  came  in,  and  he  turned  to  her  and  said: 
“ Mrs.  Jackson  this  is  the  suit  Mrs.  Jamison  sent  here, 
and  I gave  it  to  this  boy  free  of  charge,  see  how  glad 
he  is.  Don’t  you  think  our  society  is  doing  a blessed 
work?”  For  the  benefit  of  every  lady  calling,  after 
Mrs.  Jackson  left,  I had  to  go  through  the  very  same 
performance.  Oh,  how  I wished  every  time  I could 
have  shown  them  the  insides  of  my  poor  hands,  all 
blistered  and  swollen  from  the  hard  job.  I was  only 
a small  boy  in  those  days,  so  kept  quiet,  and  the 
secretary  cut  short  my  chance  of  speaking  by  order- 


84  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

ing  me  after  each  such  exhibition  into  the  kitchen  to 
help  wash  dishes  to  earn  my  night’s  lodging. 

Another  thing  struck  me  as  strange  was  that 
no  men  ever  called  on  the  secretary,  but  only  ladies, 
except  one  old  decrepit  “General”,  whom  Mr.  Jones 
would  introduce  to  every  lady  as : “ Mr.  General  John 
Garrett,  the  famous  Indian  Scout  and  ‘Honorary’ 
President  of  our  glorious  society  for  the  elimination 
of  poverty.”  This  same  “General’s”  name  was 
printed  in  heavy  type  upon  all  the  society’s  station- 
ery, and  also  in  each  first  place  on  the  long  list  of 
special  committees. 

When,  with  boyish  curiosity,  I asked  the  Janitor 
who  had  become  my  friend  and  instructor,  why  Mr. 
Jones  made  so  much  fuss  about  the  “old  General”, 
he  told  me  candidly : “ See,  Kid,  some  people  are  as 
‘luny’  about  charity  as  others  are  about  religion, 
temperance,  hunting  and  so  forth,  and  Mr.  Jones 
uses  the  ‘General’  as  a drawing  card  and  bait  to 
catch  new  members  for  ‘our’  Society.” 

Next  morning  before  breakfast,  Mr.  Jones  called 
me  again  into  his  office  and  offered  me  a job  for  my 
board  with  the  Society  until  something  better  turned 
up.  This  offer  I gladly  accepted,  as  I was  homeless 
and  friendless,  and  thought  that  perhaps  I could 
learn  something  to  help  me  earn  a living  later  on. 

At  nine  o’clock  he  told  me  to  take  out  a covered 
wagon,  pulled  by  a rather  nice  looking  horse.  He 
gave  me  directions  and  a list  of  people  to  call  upon 
for  donations  of  old  clothes  to  give  to  needy  persons. 
As  the  streets  are  all  numbered  I had  only  to  remem- 
ber the  cross  streets,  and  was  soon  on  my  way.  The 
first  house  called  at,  a lady  came  to  the  door  with 
a large  bundle  and  said  to  tell  Mr.  Jones  that  was  all 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp.  85 

she  had.  The 'next  one  said:  “Please  tell  Mr.  Jones 
a poor  tramp  called  this  morning  and  I gave  him  all 
I had  in  the  line  of  old  clothes.”  The  next  one  gave 
the  same  excuse,  only  she  gave  him  enough  to  fill 
my  wagon.  At  the  next  place  a small  package  was 
given.  At  most  every  house  I was  told  that  tramps 
and  poor  women  “had  been  given  all  there  was.” 

It  was  after  four  o’clock  when  I returned  to 
the  Society  headquarters  with  only  half  a load.  Mr. 
Jones  called  me  into  the  office,  and  asked  for  my  list, 
each  name  being  marked  according  to  the  answer 
given  me.  Of  the  twenty-eight  ladies  approached, 
nineteen  told  me  tramps  had  called,  two  were  not  at 
home  and  my  seven  bundles  vouched  for  the  rest. 
Then  the  secretary  lost  his  temper.  He  looked  so 
clerical,  I didn’t  have  any  idea  he  could  “cuss”  the 
way  he  did.  That  evening  he  penned  a note  to  the 
newspaper  office  and  I could  see  these  words  plainly 
over  his  shoulder : “ Police  ought[to  arrest  all  beggars. 
Vagrants  over-run  the  town.  People  are  molested  by 
suspicious  tramps.  Professional  beggars  are  haras- 
sing ladies  and  collecting  clothes.”  I had  to  take 
this  note  to  the  paper  office  and  the  editor  told  me  to 
thank  Mr.  Jones  for  his  contribution.  Next  morning 
it  appeared  sure  enough  in  the  leading  papers  under 
flaring  head-lines,  warning  people  to  be  on  the  look- 
out for  impudent  imposters.  H had  to  laugh,  reflect- 
ing how  queer  this  world  treats  wolves. 

Soon  Mr.  Jones  rang  for  me  again  and  ordered 
me  to  drive  down  to  the  railroad  track  with  a note 
from  the  superintendent  to  the  section  foreman, 
telling  him  to  load  all  the  old  ties  he  and  his  men 
could  find  upon  my  wagon.  They  soon  had  such  a 
load  on  it  that  the  wagon  actually  rode  upon  its 


86  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

springs.  These  redwood  ties  were  donated  gratis 
to  “help  the  poor.” 

During  the  afternoon  I delivered  two  rather 
small  loads  of  split  wood  at  different  houses,  and 
received  at  one  place  $5.00  cash,  and  at  the  other  a 
check  for  $3.00  for  these  loads.  It  was  only  about 
one-third  the  quantity  I had  sawed,  and  I began  to 
figure  that  Mr.  Jones  made  about  $3.00  cash  out  of 
a three  cent  meal. 

All  the  time  I was  at  the  Society,  men  out  of 
employment  were  applying  for  jobs,  assistance,  etc., 
etc.  They  all  had  to  imitate  my  wood-cutting  job, 
only  a much  longer  time.  This  Mr.  Jones  would  call 
the  “Working  Test”,  as  he  said  a “real”  tramp 
wouldn’t  work  at  all,  and  that  was  the  only  way  to 
find  out  if  the  poor  devil  was  a tramp  or  not,  by 
“working  him”  for  all  he  could  after  the  usual  criss- 
crossing on  the  paper  sheets.  He  would  tell  all  who 
would  stop  to  talk,  after  exchanging  hours  of  the 
hardest  sort  of  manual  labor  for  a couple  of  slices  of 
stale  bread  and  a cup  of  weak  coffee,  to  be  sure  to 
call  again  on  Wednesday  at  two  o’clock,  as  he  would 
have  a job  for  them  by  that  time.  Men  residing  in 
the  city  who  applied  for  aid,  were  treated  much 
kinder;  several  were  even  handed  a quarter.  One 
old  lady  in  dire  need,  but  handy  with  the  needle,  was 
given  a job  repairing  old  clothes  for  her  board,  “until 
Mr.  Jones  could  find  her  a good  job”,  the  same  as  he 
had  promised  the  old  ladies  who  were  working  up- 
stairs, for  God  only  knows  how  long  a time  already. 

That  afternoon  I was  sent  to  a bakery  for  a 
load  of  stale  bread,  and  to  a market  for  other  rather 
old  material  for  the  kitchen  that  was  donated. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


87 


Several  lady  members  of  the  Society  called  on  the 
secretary,  and  as  his  office  door  was  always  open,  I 
could  hear  their  conversation.  “ Ah ! You  don’t  say? 
Mr.  Anderson  has  gone  on  a vacation,  and  you  have 
spoken  to  Mrs.  Anderson  about  the  need  of  old 
clothes  to  help  the  needy  and  afflicted.  You  are 
surely  a good  Samaritan.”  After  the  ladies  left,  he 
called  up  Mrs.  Anderson  over  the  telephone : “ This 

is  Mr.  Jones  of  the .Charity  Society.  Ah, 

indeed!  I am  glad,  as  a poor  man  with  eight  chil- 
dren just  called  and  inquired  for  some  old  garments. 
Yes,  we  take  old  blankets.  You  say  you  have  some 
old  bedsteads?  We  just  need  them  for  our  bed- 
rooms. Yes,  we  can  use  the  preserves  to  give  to  the 
needy.  Best  thanks.  The  Lord  blesses  the  cheerful 
giver.” 

Next  morning  I brought  a load  of  old  stuff  from 
Mrs.  Anderson’s,  and  also  a check  for  $25.00  for  the 
old  gentleman  with  the  eight  children.  That  after- 
noon I delivered  loads  of  split  wood  and  helped  John 
repaint  the  old  furniture.  Saturday  I delivered 
four  large  boxes  containing  old  clothes  at  the  depot. 
He  told  me  to  paste  the  labels  on  them  there,  they 
read:  “Isaac  Goldstein,  1110  Market  Street,  San 
Francisco,  Cal.,  Dealer  in  New  and  Second-Hand 
Goods.”  The  same  evening  I delivered  several 
chairs  and  tables  and  one  of  Mrs.  Anderson’s  reno- 
vated bedsteads  to  a rooming  house  on  Main  Street, 
and  received  a check  for  $18.00. 

Every  Wednesday  afternoon  at  2 o’clock  was 
the  weekly  meeting  hour  for  the  Society.  Every 
lady  member  had  some  important  place  on  one  or 
more  of  the  committees,  and  thus  had  to  be  on  hand 
to  make  her  reports. 


88 


life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 


It  seemed  as  if  the  “elite”  of  society  had  de- 
scended upon  Mr.  Jones, suchacrowd  of  bediamonded, 
silk  dressed  ladies  took  possession  of  the  lower  floor 
of  the  charity  headquarters.  Many  came  in  beauti- 
ful carriages  and  had  liveried  coachmen  waiting  in 
front  of  the  building  to  do  their  bidding.  All  this 
plainly  showed  how  the  shrewd  Mr.  Jones  managed  to 
interest  the  wealthiest  people  in  his  plans  “for  sweet 
charity’s  sake.” 

In  the  wood  yard,  back  of  the  main  building  was 
a big  crowd  too,  but  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  well- 
groomed  and  well  fed  “sisters”  in  the  parlor,  they 
were  hollow  eyed  and  high  cheeked  men,  showing 
the  indelible  stamp  of  poverty  upon  their  pallid 
features.  These  were  the  same  poor  fellows  whom 
Mr.  Jones,  during  the  preceding  week  had  promised 
employment  should  they  call  again  on  Wednesday 
at  2 o’clock  in  the  afternoon. 

Just  then  I heard  Mr.  Jones  in  the  parlor  thank 
loudly  the  assembled  ladies  for  the  interest  they  took 
in  the  “glorious”  society,  and  explain  to  them  how 
hard  he  worked  to  relieve  distress,  how  he  found  jobs 
for  all  those  out  of  employment ; sent  milk,  groceries, 
eggs  and  other  dainties  (all  donated  gratis)  to  the 
sick  and  the  afflicted ; in  fact  was  busier  than  a bee 
from  early  dawn  until  late  at  night,  battling  with 
other  people’s  troubles.  Then  as  a grand  “finale” 
to  his  tale  of  human  woe,  he  caused  the  “sisters”  to 
stampede  to  the  window  leading  to  the  woodyard  and 
dramatically  pointing  at  the  ill-clad,  starved  fellows 
outside,  exclaimed:  “See  ladies,  look  for  yourselves 
what  noble  work  we  are  performing.  See  how  these 
poor  people,  often  with  their  wives  and  many  in- 
nocent children  too,  crowd  me  at  all  hours.  Now, 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


89 


“See  here,  ladies,  look  for  yourselves  what  noble 
work  we  are  performing. 


90  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

don’t  yon  think  our  ‘glorious’  Society  is  doing  blessed 
work?” 

While  Mr.  Jones  was  working  the  money  con- 
tributing division  of  the  Society  on  the  inside  of  the 
building,  the  janitor  had  the  time  of  his  life  to  keep 
the  poor  fellows  in  the  wood  yard  from  mobbing  him, 
as  he  had  told  them  “Mr.  Jones  had  a job  for  each 
one.”  After  the  ladies  left,  Mr.  Jones  raised  the  wood 
yard  window  and  gave  the  unfortunates  alecture  filled 
with  scientific  words,  telling  the  poor  fellows  how  they 
ought  to  be  ashamed  to  be  out  of  employment  and 
funds,  and  that  had  they  lived  on  macaroni  like 
“Dagoes”  or  rice  like  Chinese;  or  bread  and  cheese 
like  Russians  and  Austrians ; had  slept  in  tents  out- 
side the  city  limits  to  save  rents  and  avoid  taxes; 
had  dressed  themselves,  wives  and  children  on  clothes 
sold  at  the  Society’s  periodical  rummage  sales,  they 
would  never  had  to  beg  for  jobs.  He  told  them  how 
sorry  he  was  not  having  been  able  to  find  a single 
job  for  them,  as  other  fellows  had  been  provided 
ahead  of  them,  and  giving  them  more  sound  advice 
he  finished  by  inviting  all  who  would  like  to  enjoy  a 
“ nice,  hot  supper”  to  saw  and  split  redwood  ties  into 
smaller  sections.  Then  he  closed  the  window. 

I was  only  a poor  calculator,  but  I figured  that 
Mr.  Jones  took  in  about  $100.00  per  week  and  dis- 
bursed not  over  $10.00  weekly  for  charitable  pur- 
poses, and  dispensed  his  doleful  mites  in  such  a 
manner  that  all  Los  Angeles  heard  through  the  news- 
papers about  it. 

The  following  morning  when  returning  from  an 
errand,  just  when  about  to  enter  the  Society  build- 
ing, a seedy  looking  fellow,  who  had  perhaps  seen 
me  around  the  building  before,  called'  me  over  to 


AMERICA’S  MOST  celebrated  tramp. 


91 


him,  and  after  I told  him  the  'true  story  of  my 
attempted  reform,  he  wisely  said:  “Sonny,  keep 
out  of  this  building  for  your  mother’s  sake,  for  they 
will  make  a professional  beggar  out  of  you  before 
you  realize  it.”  I took  his  advice,  perferring  to  be 
an  honest  tramp  to  the  disgusting  beggar-life  I had 
led  for  a week,  and  quit  right  there  and  then,  not 
even  blessing  Mr.  Jones  the  way  I had  heard  other 
unfortunates  do,  to  whom  he  had  doled  out  a mite. 

I hied  myself  to  a public  park,  and  sitting  on  a 
bench  I pondered  over  my  case  and  recognizing  that 
reform,  after  all  these  samples  of  “kind  assistance,  ” 
was  out  of  the  question,  and  that  I,  a poor  homeless 
lad,  had  been  working  hard  for  almost  a month  for 
the  benefit  of  some  of  the  biggest  rascals,  I resolved 
to  hit  the  road  again  until  I should  be  large  enough 
to  command  “clean”  employment  at  a good  salary. 


Chapter  XV. 

“Beating  It  to  South  America.” 

I LEFT  Los  Angeles  and  quickly  dropped  into  my 
old  tramp  life  again,  only  I was  now  better  pre- 
pared as  the  lessons  learned  - at  the  Charity 
Society  by  actual  practice,  kept  me  not  alone  well 
supplied  with  food,  but  plenty  of  money,  which  I 
used  in  helping  other  poor  fellows  (without  chopping 
wood). 


92  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

But  the  promise  I made  mother  at  home  was 
continuously  ringing  in  my  ears,  and  as  every  letter 
asking  forgiveness  had  a line  written  in  mother’s 
hand  on  it,  such  as : “ Settle  down.  Be  ashamed. 
Be  somebody,  etc.,  etc.,”  when  it  returned  to  me 
unopened,  it  worked  upon  me  stronger  than  mile 
long  sermons  ever  could. 

While  in  just  such  a sad  mood  I picked  up  a 
newspaper  and  read  how  people  in  Brazil,  South 
America,  became  rich  over  night  in  the  newly  dis- 
covered diamond  fields,  and  in  my  childish  fancy 
I thought  that  would  be  just  the  place  for  me  to  land 
on,  as  I could  make  a fortune  in  a “jiffy”,  return  to 
San  Francisco  and  show  the  “old  man”  as  I called 
father,  “a  trick  or  two”. 

I went  to  the  city  library,  and  sitting  before  a 
large  map  of  the  world,  I began  to  study  and  scheme. 
Brazil  was  a long  way  off,  still,  even  a little  fellow 
can  go  a long  way  in  little  jumps,  as  I learned  on  the 
railroads.  From  Florida  to  Cuba,  from  Cuba  to  the 
Lesser  Antilles,  from  there  to  the  northern  coast  of 
Brazil  seemed  not  so  bad.  “Leon,”  I said  to  my- 
self, “that’s  dead  easy,  from  one  to  another,  and 
after  awhile  you  will  reach  those  diamond  mines.” 
That  afternoon,  hanging  to  a brakebeam,  underneath 
a Pullman,  I left  California  across  the  continent  for 
Florida,  bound  for  Brazil. 

At  Sierra  Blanca,  Texas,  900  miles  from  Los 
Angeles,  I helped  a stockman  load  a car  of  cattle.. 
He  asked  which  way  I was  going,  and,  as  the  cattle 
were  to  be  shipped  to  the  market  at  San  Antonio, 
Texas,  and  he  had  no  one  to  go  along  to  look  after 
them,  he  made  the  agent  give  me  a pass  to  accom- 
pany them  as  a drover.  At  Del  Rio,  Texas,  where 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


93 


they  stopped  to  unload,  feed  and  water  the  stock, 
one  of  the  steers  became  unmanageable,  broke  away, 
and  with  uplifted  tail  made  a bee-line  for  the  desert. 
An  employe  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  I would 
have  to  wait  at  least  twenty-four  hours  before  a 
cowboy  could  be  found  to  rope  the  steer  and  return 
him.  As  I had  only  a few  cents  left,  and  was  anx- 
ious to  reach  San  Antonio,  .1  pulled  out  my  pass  and 
taking  him  on  the  side  told  him  that  my  .boss  would 
surely  have  him  discharged  if  the  steers  were  de- 
layed, as  they  had  to  reach  the  market  immediately. 
In  the  pass  it  read  “ 28  head  of  cattle,  more  or  less,” 
and  I just  put  a seven  there,  and  it  now  read : “ 27 
cattle,  more  or  less.” 

Thus  we  were  both  satisfied,  and  I soon  was 
again  on  my  way,  rolling  towards  the  East.  When 
morning  came,  we  had  reached  our  destination,  and 
I made  myself  thin.  I stayed  around  the  pretty 
city  of  San  Antonio  a few  days,  until  one  morning  I 
picked  up  a paper,  and  there  in  plain  black  and  white 
was  a long  article  describing  how  the  railroad  com- 
pany had  discovered  a new  method  for  stealing  cattle. 
The  article  told  how  the  company  was  looking  for  a 
young  drover,  who,  with  the  aid  of  unknown  con- 
federates, had  stolen  a valuable  steer  out  of  a car- 
load entrusted  to  his  care.  I dropped  the  paper 
and  took  a bee-line  out  of  the  town  without  waiting 
to  bid  anyone  good-by.  Cattle  and  horse  stealing 
bring  worse  punishment  than  murder  in  that  State, 
and  I did  not  feel  sure  that  my  life  was  my  own  until 
I left  the  Texas  State  line  behind  me. 

After  many  hardships  I reached  Tampa,  Florida. 
At  the  harbor  a steamer  was  ready  to  sail  for  Havana, 
Cuba,  and  I tried  to  work  my  way  across,  but  neither 


94  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

that  nor  to  stowaway  would  work,  and  -so,  after 
coming  3,000  miles,  my  efforts  were  in  vain  even  to 
reach  -Cuba.  But  they  had  a very  nice  City  Mayor 
there,  and  to  hunt  him  up  and  tell  him  I had  an 
uncle  across  in  Cuba  waiting  for  me,  did  not  take 
long,  and  he  gave  me  a pass  good  on  the  steamer,  but 
to  be  paid  by  the  City  of  Tampa,  and  thus  it  came 
that  a city  once  paid  my  transportation. 

After  a stop  at  Key  West,  I reached  Havana, 
the  capital  of  Cuba,  then  under  Spanish  “misrule”. 
I looked  the  city  over,  and  then  tried  to  find  a steam- 
er which  would  take  me  farther  south,  but  could 
only  find  a small  lumber  schooner  that  carried  me  to 
Santiago,  in  return  for  my  working  for  the  passage. 
We  made  the  trip  in  two  weeks,  and  I remained 
there  nearly  a month,  trying  to  secure  transportation 
farther  south,  but  could  not  find  a single  chance.  No 
other  way  being  open,  I finally  walked  from  east  to 
west,  the  whole  length  of  the  Island  of  Cuba,  from 
Santiago  back  to  Havana,  four  hundred  and  ninety 
miles. 

When  I reached  Havana,  I found  that  a yellow 
fever  epidemic  was  raging,  and  that  there  was  no 
chance  at  all  to  leave.  Hunger  hurts,  and  sleeping 
out  in  the  tropical  rains  is  not  at  all  funny,  so  I 
hunted  up  the  American  Consul,  Mr.  Williams,  and 
told  him  one  of  my  choicest  stories.  All  he  said  in 
reply  was:  “Young  man,  you  came  here,  stopped 
here,  and  now  get  out  the  way  you  came,  and  by  all 
means  don’t  bother  me.” 

Next  I hit  the  German  Consul.  I told  him  I 
was  a German  cabin  boy,  ship-wrecked  and  broke. 
He  gave  me  an  order  for  a few  week’s  board  and  room. 
After  that  was  used  I went  to  see  the  Consul  from 


AMERICA'S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


95 


Austria,  and  told  him  I came  from  Vienna  and  had 
lost  all  in  a shipwreck.  I told  him  how  the  waves  had 
dashed  me  on  shore  and  every  detail  as  vividly  as 
possible.  He  believed  my  yam,  and  gave  me  a 
ticket  to  New  York,  and  order  for  a ticket  from  New 
York  to  Vienna,  and  twenty  dollars  in  money  for 
my  expenses.  Three  days  later  I was  aboard  a 
Ward-line  steamer,  the  “Niagara”,  bound  for  New 
York.  We  landed  there  after  a very  rough  journey 
of  four  days,  finding  a genuine  blizzard  awaited  us 
in  contrast  to  the  tropical  climate  we  left  behind  in 
Cuba. 

I sold  my  voucher  for  a ticket  to  Austria  to  a 
ticket  broker  for  ‘ $40.00.  It  thus  happened  that 
even  the  Imperial  Austrian  government  paid  for 
some  of  my  travels.  I now  had  a pocketful  of  money 
and  again  scanning  the  map,  found  Brazil  could  be 
reached  overland  via  Mexico  and  Panama,  so  at  an 
age  when  other  boys  were  at  school  studying,  I 
picked  out  a route  to  reach  Brazil,  over  7,000  miles 
away,  on  an  overland  trip,  undaunted  by  the  failure 
to  reach  the  diamond  mines  by  sea. 

From  New  York  City  I made  my  way,  free  of 
fare  of  course,  to  St.  Louis,  then  to  Dallas,  Texas, 
and  from  there  to  El  Paso,  where  I crossed  the 
boundary  into  old  Mexico.  Four  hundred  miles 
south  I reached  San  Luis  Potosi,  where  I had  another 
strange  adventure  occur.  Arriving  there  late  at 
night  and  hunting  around  for  a place  to  sleep,  I 
climbed  into  an  empty  passenger  coach  standing  on 
a side  track.  Hardly  had  I closed  my  eyes  when 
suddenly  I found  myself  looking  into  a lighted  burg- 
lar lamp,  and  a big  revolver  pointed  at  my  head.  I 
was  ordered  in  Spanish  to  hold  up  my  hands.  Sud- 


96  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

denly  the  light  was  turned  away,  and,  almost  scared 
to  death,  I found  myself  hugged  by  a big  Mexican, 
who  in  broken  English  explained : “ Meester,  me  dee 
watchman  from  Mexico  Ceety ; me  sell  robas  (clothes) 
for  you ; you  bum,  me  sell,  savez  (understand)  ? A 
bueno  amigo  mio  (good  friend)  como  esta  usted 
(how  are  you)  ? ” To  my  joy  I had  met  by  chance  my 
old  watchman,  the  same  one  who  used  to  sell  old 
clothes  I begged  around  Mexico  City,  and  divided 
the  money  with  me,  and  who  had  been  transferred  to 
this  place.  He  carried  me  to  his  house  and  entertain- 
ed me  for  a couple  of  days  on  the  best  he  could  fur- 
nish. 

From  San  Luis  Potosi,  I reached  the  City  of 
Mexico  and  from  there  to  Vera  Cruz,  the  seaport. 
As  luck  would  have  it,  I found  employment  on  a 
German  schooner  loaded  with  lumber  bound  for 
Venezuela,  as  cabin  boy,  thus  saving  a 2,000  mile 
tedious  overland  trip  through  Central  America  and 
over  the  Isthmus  of  Panama. 

After  two  weeks  of  fast  sailing  before  a fine 
breeze,  we  reached  our  destination,  the  harbor  of 
La  Guayra,  the  port  of  entry  for  Carcas,  the  capital 
of  Venezuela,  fifty  miles  by  rail  to  the  interior  across 
a mountain  range. 

The  country  was  in  the  throes  of  a revolution, 
and  the  military  was  much  in  evidence.  Having 
unloaded  our  cargo  and  taken  on  a ballast  of  sand, 
we  set  sail  for  Maracaybo,  where  the  captain  ex- 
pected to  load  a cargo  of  coffee  for  New  York. 

Aided  by  favorable  breezes  and  a smooth  sea, 
after  a week’s  fast  cruising  among  beautiful  tropical 
islands,  we  reached  Maracaybo,  which  city  is  situated 
at  the  mouth  of  the  gulf  of  the  same  name.  It  is  an 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


97 


important  shipping  point,  and  the  commerce  is 
nearly  all  in  the  hands  of  large  German  mercantile 
houses.  Here  were  warehouses  full  of  coffee,  rubber 
and  bark.  This  bark  is  the  kind  quinine  is  made  from 
and  is  very  valuable.  Mahogany  logs  are  exported, 
also  ebony  and  dye  woods.  I ran  away,  just  as  our 
schooner  was  ready  to  leave,  as  I had  no  desire  to 
return  to  New  York. 


Chapter  XVI. 

, “Tramping  Across  South  America.” 

I WAS  offered  several  nice  jobs  on  account  of  my 
knowledge  of  languages,  but  that  section  being 
very  unhealthy  and  swampy  I refused,  and  made 
plans  to  reach  Brazil.  Here  I made  the  acquaintance 
of  Tom  Hanrahan,  a boy  of  my  own  age,  from  Harris- 
burg, Pennsylvania.  He  had  also  deserted  a vessel, 
and  was  loafing  about  waiting  for  a chance  to  re- 
turn to  the  States.  Being  unable  to  speak  Spanish, 
he  was  nearly  starved  to  death.  I had  him  soon 
thinking  my  way  to  go  to  Brazil  and  try  to  make 
fortunes  as  others  had,  and  to  prove  to  him  that  I 
could  manage  things  pleasantly  for  both,  I began 
“mooching”  among  the  padres  (priests  ),  German 
storekeepers,  clerks  and  their  wives.  In  two  hours 
I returned  to  him  with  60  bolivars  ($48.00).  Tom 
had  not  had  a square  meal  for  two  months,  and  see- 
ing my  success  we  were  soon  devoted  chums. 


98  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

For  two  bolivars  apiece,  we  purchased  two  nice 
burros,  riding  being  more  preferable  than  walking, 
as  we  had  a long  journey  ahead  of  us. 

Maracaybo  is  the  shipping  point  for  Bogota,  the 
capital  of  the  Republic  of  Columbia,  475  miles  south, 
and  as  there  was  a single  telegraph  wire  strung  from 
tree  to  tree  all  the  way,  we  planned  to  follow  it  to 
Bogota.  At  Maracaybo  whole  ship  loads  are  trans- 
packed  on  the  backs  of  pack  mules  and  burros,  and 
thus  transported  all  over  the  interior.  The  narrow 
path,  beaten  deep  by  countless  hoofprints,  and  the 
telegraph  wire  as  guide,  were  all  we  had  to  lead  us 
into  an  unknown  country. 

Ropes  for  bridles  and  empty  coffee  bags  for 
saddles,  thus  equipped  and  happy  we  started  on  our 
journey,  camping  at  night,  and  living  high  on  what 
the  people  provided.  My  Spanish  opened  the  houses 
for  us,  and  the  story  of  “our  uncle  in  Rio  de  Janeiro, 
who  was  rich,”  the  same  old  yam  with  only  the  des- 
tination changed,  seemed  to  touch  their  tender 
hearts.  The  rich  coffee  planters  send  their  children 
(following  the  precedent  set  by  the  rieh  German 
merchants)  to  Germany  to  be  educated.  Of  course 
they  are  as  proud  as  peacocks  to  speak  the  German 
language  on  their  return  to  South  America,  and 
ehre  my  graft  came  in,  for  we  hardly  left  a settlement 
without  some  kind  of  collection  being  taken  up  to 
help  us  reach  “our  uncle.” 

Our  burros,  being  used  to  carrying  loads  nearly 
their  own  weight,  seemed  to  enjoy  our  company, 
and  more  so,  because  we  treated  them  more  kindly 
than  did  the  cruel  natives,  who  overload  and  beat 
them  with  clubs.  We  made  good  progress,  even 
when  crossing  the  high  mountain  ranges. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


99 


The  country  is  like  a paradise  down  there,  trop- 
ical and  cooled  by  the  winds  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
The  rich  planters  are  very  rich,  but  the  peons  are 
pitifully  poor.  The  latter  work  for  one  bolivar  and 
one  aroba  of  com  (about  80  pounds)  a month.  On 
this,  they  and  their  often  large  families  exist,  but  of 
course  fruit  is  cheap  and  game  plentiful.  Every 
woman  knows  how  to  weave  panama  hats  from 
bleached  palm  leaves.  The  best  grade  often  re- 
quires a month  to  finish  and  brings  only  twenty-five 
cents.  The  kind  that  sells  in  the  States  for  $5.00  is 
worth  here  only  ten  or  fifteen  cents  apiece. 

Every  time  a baby  is  bom  there  is  a feast.  The 
padre,  doctor,  druggist,  etc.,  have  to  be  paid,  and  at 
all  times  something  turns  up  that  demands  ready 
cash.  The  father  has  to  go  to  the  “ Haciendero”  to 
borrow  the  amount,  thus  getting  deeper  into  debt. 
The  law  makes  children  responsible  for  debts  con- 
tracted by  parents,  so  it  is  simply  pure  slavery  to  all. 

Tom  and  I had  a hard  time  hiding  our  many 
bolivars,  which  we  could  not  exchange  for  gold  or 
paper  here  in  the  interior.  We  received  letters  of 
recommendation  from  one  hacienda  to  another,  the 
same  as  I had  in  Central  America,  and  everybody 
was  anxious  to  provide  us  with  the  best  and  help  us 
on  our  journey.  It  took  nearly  a month  to  reach 
Bogota,  a small  ugly  town  of  old  Spanish  architec- 
ture. Every  second  building  is  a church  property. 
There  are  convents,  cloisters,  schools,  churches  and 
chapels  alternating,  all  built  low  and  heavy  with 
barred  windows  in  Spanish  fashion.  Here,  8,000 
feet  above  the  sea,  the  climate  is  delightful.  Sum- 
mer all  the  year.  Gorgeous  butterflies,  flowers,  birds 


ioo  Life  and  adventures  of  A-No.  l, 

and  snakes  abound;  parrots  flying  overhead  and 
chattering  monkeys  everywhere. 

After  taking  our  usual  collection,  we  left  for 
Quito,  the  capital  of  Ecuador,  450  miles  farther 
south.  We  had  now  reached  the  end  of  the  telegraph 
wire,  and  had  not  even  this  means  to  guide  us  through 
a rough  and  mountainous  country  on  the  eastern 
slope  of  the  Andes,  the  Rocky  Mountains  of  South 
America. 

* 

The  country  became  more  and  more  desolate, 
with  dangerous  tfails  up  and  down  steep  mountain 
sides ; wire  bridges  swinging  in  the  wind  over  gorges 
and  chasms,  we  crossed  often.  From  hacienda  to 
hacienda  we  had  to  carry  our  provisions,  and  had 
bundles  of  alfalfa  for  saddles  to  feed  our  burros.  We 
were  nearing  the  equator  and  the  sun  was  very  hot, 
but  during  the  nights  we  nearly  froze.  We  met 
many  native  South  American  Indians,  and  as  most 
all  white  men  down  there  are  badly  tanned,  they 
seemed  to  enjoy  opening  our  shirts  to  admire  our 
white  skins.  Their  foreheads  are  all  elongated, 
caused  by  their  mothers  tying  boards  on  them  while 
babies,  thus  giving  them' an  ugly  appearance  and 
expression.  Their  dress,  for  male  as  well  as  female 
consists  of  a loin  cloth  and  poncho.  This  is  a blan- 
ket woven  from  the  wool  of  the  lama.  It  is  water- 
proof and  has  a hole  in  the  center  for  the  head,  thus 
serving  the  purpose  of  blanket,  overcoat  and  rain 
protector  combined. 

After  two  months  of  travel,  we  at  last  reached 
Quito,  another  ugly  Spanish  built  settlement,  but 
surrounded  by  sublime  scenery.  From  our  stop- 
ping place  we  could  see  the  volcanoes,  Cotopaxi  and 
Chimborazo,  20,000  feet  each  above  sea  level,  and 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


101 


102  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

hundreds  of  other  peaks,  all  covered  with  eternal 
snow,  that  stood  out  well  against  the  dark  blue  trop- 
ical sky.  At  night  the  Southern  Cross  and  the  stars 
seemed  ever  so  much  brighter,  though  very  much 
less  in  number  than  in  the  northern  firmament. 
We  found  at  Quito  another  colony  of  German  mer- 
chants, and  the  commerce  of  the  Republic  is  here, 
as  well  as  in  other  places,  totally  in  their  hands. 
The  standard  coin  in  use  here  is  the  Peruvian  “sol”, 
, and  I managed  to  collect  185  of  them  in  one  day,  the 
luckiest  streak  I ever  had  in  all  my  life.  I sent  Tom 
to  tackle  two  Americans  here,  a dentist  and  a sew- 
ing machine  agent.  His  part  was  ten  sols,  so  be- 
tween us  we  cleared  195  sols,  about  $155  in  American 
currency. 

We  had  now  covered  900  miles  with  the  aid  of 
our  little  burros  and  had  plenty  of  adventures.  Tom 
had  a large  44  calibre  navy  revolver  tied  to  a rawhide 
belt,  while  I carried  an  old  canvas  money  bag  full 
of  cartridges.  At  Bogota  a merchant  made  each  of 
us  a present  of  a pair  of  new  shoes,  but  when  we 
crossed  the  first  stream,  and  they  became  damp,  the 
paper  soles  let  go,  and  we  were  compelled  to  use  the 
sandals  of  the  natives,  made  of  a piece  of  tanned 
tapir  hide,  imported  from  the  delta  of  the  Orinoco. 
They  were  an  inch  and  a half  thick  and  were  fastened 
to  our  feet  by  a rawhide  string  running  between  the 
toes.  We  hobbeled  along  after  the  fashion  of  a 
Chinese  woman  until  we  found  a chance  to  buy  new 
shoes. 

Quito  is  very  healthful,  being  nearly  9,000  feet 
above  the  sea  level,  and  is  right  under  the  equator. 
Only  100  miles  west  is  the  port  of  entry,  Esmeralda 
on  the  Pacific,  a miasmatic  pest  and  fever  hole  at  all 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


103 


seasons.  Earthquakes  occur  here  often,  and  all 
walls  are  from  three  to  four  feet  thick,  and  the  houses 
only  one  story  high.  Hot  springs  gush  everywhere, 
and  on  the  road  here  we  passed  many  places  where 
crude  oil  had  soaked  the  ground.  Gold  in  placers  is 
plentiful,  but  only  handpans  are  used;  other  min- 
erals abound. 

Transportation  is  made  on  the  backs  of  natives, 
mules  and  burros,  and  is  of  the  poorest.  The  trails 
are  crossed  and  recrossed  by  others,  and  we  often 
lost  ourselves.  Everybody  is  armed  with  large 
pistols  and  knives.  Amber  is  valued  highly  and 
worth  more  than  gold,  as  hearts  and  crosses  made 
from  this  material  are  sold  to  the  natives  as  sure 
amulets  against  the  evil  eye  or  sickness.  We  ex- 
changed our  three  hundred  odd  bolivars  for  Brazilian 
paper  money,  and  thus  became  rid  of  a load  that  was 
becoming  a burden.  Superstition  is  common  among 
the  natives.  In  epidemics,  especially  smallpox, 
they  carry  saint’s  pictures  and  holy  bowls  and  march 
in  procession  through  the  streets,  chanting  prayers 
and  beating  themselves  with  cords  and  sticks,  as  I 
witnessed  several  times.  Marriage  laws  demand 
that  a civil  marriage  shall  be  performed,  and  before 
entering  the  church  a magistrate  performs  the  cere- 
mony, then  inside,  the  padre  finishes  the  job  with 
church  rites. 

After  a rest  of  three  weeks  at  Quito,  we  left, 
bound  for  Brazil.  We  crossed  a branch  of  the  Andes 
over  the  Tambo  Pass,  midway  between  the  Coto- 
paxi and  Chimborazo,  14,000  feet  above  sea  level. 
For  four  days  we  were  riding  through  snow  and  ice 
and  desolation.  Monks  keep  stations  every  few 
miles  all  the  way  across,  and  as  the  weather  was  fine 


104  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  l, 

and  clear,  and  they  absolutely  refused  to  take  money 
for  supplying  us  with  food  and  lodging  at  night,  we 
fared  well.  When  nearly  on  top  we  were  shown  a 
tiny  spot  above  us  in  the  sky.  The  monks  told  us 
it  was  a condor,  the  largest  buzzard  and  the  highest 
flying  bird  on  earth.  Through  a very  strong  telescope 
I could  hardly  recognize  the  circles  he  made.  The 
monks  estimated  the  height  10,000  feet  above  our 
heads.  The  descent  on  the  eastern  slope  is  so  steep 
that  eight  hours  after  leaving  the  summit  we  reached 
Tambo,  a small  settlement  among  orange  and  coffee 
groves  and  other  tropical  vegetation — quite  a wel- 
come change. 

After  covering  another  250  miles,  we  entered  a 
small  place  named  San  Juan  on  the  Rio  Napo,  a 
tributary  of  the  “Rio  Amazones”  (the  Amazon), 
the  longest  and  largest  river  on  earth.  The  Rio 
Napo  is  only  a small  stream  full  of  rapids  and  falls, 
still  it  is  navigable  with  canoes.  We  traded  our 
friends,  the  two  little  burros  that  had  carried  us 
1,250  miles,  for  a canoe  large  enough  to  carry  us  and 
provisions.  It  was  made  from  ironwood,  strong  as 
iron  yet  light  as  cork.  After  buying,  bumming  and 
trading  together,  provisions,  cooking  utensils,  flint 
and  steel  for  fire  making,  two  muzzle  loading  rifles 
and  ammunition,  in  fact  a regular  camping  outfit, 
one  morning  we  started  on  our  journey,  3,000  miles 
as  the  crow  flies,  5,000  miles  following  the  crooked 
streams  and  the  Amazon  itself  into  unknown  dan- 
gers, into  a country  where  my  knowledge  of  Spanish 
was  useless,  Portugese  only  being  spoken,  with  only 
the  craving  to  travel  and  explore  to  drive  us  on.  And 
at  that  time  I was  just  15  years  old. 


Drifting,  paddling  and  camping  on  the  Amazon  in  South  America. 


106  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

From  the  riding  on  slow  jolting  burros  to  the 
easy  floating  down  a crystal  current  in  a canoe  on  the 
Rio  Napo  was  indeed  a welcome  change.  The  trop- 
ical scenery  was  beautiful  as  we  were  yet  at  an 
altitude  of  nearly  6,000  feet  and  the  nights  cool  but 
pleasant.  Here  is  a country  hardly  ever  visited  and 
never  written  about  by  Americans;  everywhere  are 
coffee  plantations.  We  were  treated  as  lords  by  the 
planters,  and  given  assistance  as  far  as  was  in  their 
power.  The  Rio  Napo  has  many  falls  and  rapids 
and  we  had  to  carry  our  canoes  as  well  as  our  little 
cargo  down  steep  places  to  reload  them  and  to  repeat 
this  tiresome  task  farther  down.  Some  days  we  had 
to  make  three  portages  thus,  and  it  was  this  very 
unpleasant  job  that  prevented  us  making  rapid  pro- 
gress. It  took  us  nearly  a month  before  we  reached 
the  main  stream,  the  Maranon  (spoken,  Marannjon), 
as  the  Amazon  is  called  at  the  upper  reaches,  the 
latter  name  only  being  used  after  the  confluence  of 
the  Rio  Madera. 

After  we  entered  the  main  stream  at  Jambo,  a 
small  settlement,  we  had  a much  wider  stream  to 
navigate.  The  rainy  season  was  just  coming  to  an 
end  farther  west,  and  as  the  river  was  still  very  high 
we  were  carried  swiftly  toward  our  destination. 
There  were  no  portages  to  disturb  our  peace.  We 
passed  canoes,  often  very  large  ones,  being  poled  and 
paddled  up  and  down  the  stream,  loaded  with  the 
products  of  the  country,  thus  furnishing  us  com- 
pany, and  an  occasional  change  from  the  monoton- 
ous surroundings  of  a continuous  tropical  forest  that 
lined  the  banks  on  either  side.  Parrots,  monkeys 
and  gaily  plumed  birds  we  encountered  by  the  mil- 
lions. Every  little  hut  along  the  banks  had  them 


AMERICA'S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


107 


for  pets.  To  try  and  buy  them  only  seemed  to  amuse 
the  natives,  and  when  we  explained  to  them  that 
each  parrot  would  be  worth  $10.00  in  the  States, 
they  seemed  to  think  we  were  telling  them  yams, 
and  nearly  called  us  actual  liars.  Ten  dollars  is 
much  money  down  there  on  the  Maranon,  in  South 
America,  far  away  from  the  path'  of  trade  and  civil- 
ization. Brazilian  coins  are  only  used  in  eastern 
Ecuador,  the  milreis,  which  has  a market  value  of 
about  50  American  cents  and  is  subdivided  into 
1,000  reis.  To  send  a letter  to  the  States  costslOO 
reis,  still  for  10  reis,  the  smallest  copper  coin  in  Brazil, 
we  bought  the  finest  .pineapples,  or  even  whole 
bunches  of  ripe  bananas — not  the  decayed  article 
sold  in  the  States — but  bananas  that  have  a delicious 
flavor  and  were  ripened  on  the  plant. 

There  are  plenty  of  long  homed  cattle,  but 
transportation  being  so  costly,  the  native  cowboys, 
known  here  as  “gauchos”,  only  skin  off  the  hides 
and  cut  out  the  tongues  of  the  animals,  the  meat  and 
bones  making  food  for  the  buzzards,  and  fertilizers 
for  the  already  fertile  soil.  These  “gauchos”  "often 
join  circuses  traveling  in  the  States,  and  by  their 
horsemanship  and  dare-devil  acts  command  applause 
but  to  see  them  perform  here  in  their  natural  state 
on  their  small  skin-and-bone  ponies,  give  a better 
idea  of  their  daring. 

We  kept  floating  down  the  swift  current  until 
we  reached  Tabatingo,  the  frontier’s  settlement  of 
Brazil.  Here  custom  officials,  in  approved  Ameri- 
can style,  searched  our  canoe  and  ourselves  for  duti- 
able property.  This  was  our  reception  on  entering 
Brazil.  Down  the  swift  river  we  proceeded ; but 
soon  lost  all  interest  in  our  journey.  To  be  seated 


108  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

cramped  up  all  day,  paddling  and  watching  the 
stream  for  stumps,  to  have  the  hot  tropical  sun 
blister  our  backs  from  morning  till  night,  day  after 
day  and  week  after  week,  was  getting  monotonous 
and  a punishment.  We  could  not  move  much,  as  a 
canoe  will  quickly  turn  turtle,  and  the  alligators 
would  have  soon  put  a finish  to  us  as  the  river  fairly 
swarmed  with  them. 

At  night  we  had  to  fill  our  canoe  with  water  and 
tip  it  over  to  hide  it  from  the  natives,  who  even  stole 
our  paddles  in  broad  daylight,  until  we  watched  care- 
fully. We  had  to  keep  a large  campfire  burning  to 
keep  the  wild  animals,  snakes  and  insects  away  at 
night.  Food,  such  as  they  had,  was  given  to  us 
freely,  but  money  became  harder  to  collect.  As 
we  left  the  Spanish  speaking  population  of  Ecuador 
behind  us,  and  the  farther  we  advanced  into  Brazil, 
the  harder  it  was  to  make  our  wants  understood — 
as  Portuguese  only  is  spoken,  as  Brazil  used  to  be  a 
colony  of  Portugal. 

Soon  I found  myself  on  a level,  as  far  as  this 
language  was  concerned,  with  my  partner  Tom.  It 
used  to  be  amusing  to  me  in  teaching  him,  trying  to 
repeat  some  hard  Spanish  word,  but  now  we  both 
made  funny  faces,  imitating  monkeys, trying  to  mem- 
orize some  beautiful  “ Portugese  expression”.  The 
only  people  that  had  patience,  a kind  word  and 
always  a few  milreis  for  us  were  the  Catholic  fathers 
and  monks  we  encountered.  Tom,  being  a Catholic, 
instructed  me  in  the  mystery  of  the  rosary;  taught 
me  to  repeat  the  Ave  Maria  and  other  Latin  prayers 
that  are  used  everywhere  alike  in  the  whole  world  by 
the  Catholics;  the  making  of  crosses  over  ourselves 
with  a saintly  expression  helped  us  very  much. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


109 


The  hot  sun  of  the  day  time  changed  off  with  u 
heavy,  cold  fog  at  night,  heavy  enough  to  make  us 
wish  for  umbrellas.  In  the  daytime  we  wore  the 
lightest  of  garments,  but  at  night  the  ponchos  from 
Ecuador  came  handy.  Except  in  moonlight  nights 
we  would  prepare  our  camp  before  sundown,  as  in 
fifteen  minutes  after  six,  it  would  be  as  dark  as  mid- 
night, there  being  no  twilight  at  all.  We  kept  the 
fire  up  all  night  to  protect  ourselves,  and  soon  slept 
soundly  with  nothing  to  disturb  us,  not  even  the 
calls  and  screams  of  the  wild  animals  in  a tropical 
wilderness. 

Thus  drifting,  paddling  and  camping  we  reached 
the  confluence  of  the  Rio  Negro.  We  had  selected 
our  camp  on  a little  elevation,  and  kept  a fire  going 
as  usual  to  protect  us  from  wild  animals  and  mos- 
quitoes. It  was  on  the  night  of  July  1,  1887,  when 
Tom  awoke  and  arose  to  put  a few  more  dry  branches 
on  the  fire.  Suddenly  he  screamed  and  awakening  me 
I saw  him  stagger  to  the  fire  and  kneeling  over  lie 
dazed  on  the  ground.  In  a weak  voice  he  told  me 
that  some  poisonous  snake  had  struck  at  him,  which 
no  doubt,  attracted  by  the  warmth  of  the  dying 
embers  of  the  fire,  had  crawled  so  close  that  Tom 
unadvertly  had  stepped  on  it.  In  haste  I ripped  open 
his  pants  leg  and  with  my  knife  cut  into  the  flesh, 
where  two  small  spots  showed  where  the  fangs  had 
entered,  but  it  was  already  too  late,  as  even  then  the 
blood  would  not  respond,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes 
and  after  awful  convulsions,  yet  with  his  senses  clear, 
turning  purple-black,  poor  Tom  died.  His  last 
words  were  to  tell  his  mother  that  he  thought  of  her, 
and  to  give  her  his  rosary  and  prayer  book. 


no  life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

Until  daybreak  I kept  a dumb  vigil,  indeed  I 
was  nearly  paralyzed  myself,  I felt  so  bad  at  losing 
Tom — he  who  had  shared  with  me  all  the  adventures 
thus  far — the  only  friend  I could  speak  to  in  my  native 
tongue.  There  I was  alone  on  the  banks  of  the 
Amazon  in  the  interior  of  far  away  Brazil.  We  had 
planned  to  stay  and  work  in  the  diamond  mines, 
had  planned  to  return  to  the  States,  both  rich,  to  take 
care  of  Tom’s  mother,  a widow  whose  only  son  he 
was.  All  this  was  cut  short  by  this  tragedy  in  the 
wilderness.  Putrification  had  started  at  daybreak; 
the  features  had  become  distorted  and  swollen.  I 
did  not  even  have  tools  to  dig  a grave  to  bury  him 
in  the  moist  soil,  I could  only  cover  his  body  with 
branches,  then  kneeling  by  the  side  of  all  that  was 
left  of  him  on  earth,  I prayed,  first  silently  and  then 
aloud,  as  I never  had  done  before — prayed  until 
the  tears  ran  down  my  cheeks — prayed  until  my 
words  gave  out  and  I only  could  sob,  as  I felt  so 
lonesome,  so  lost,  all  alone  in  the  wilderness  far  away 
from  any  human  being.  It  took  a long  time  before 
I was  able  to  turn  over  the  canoe  and  bail  it  out, 
then  loading  our  little  store  of  provisions,  I left  his 
poor  body  alone  in  the  wilderness,  while  buzzards 
circled  above  in  ever  increasing  numbers. 

It  was  September  when  I reached  Santarem. 
The  rainy  season  of  the  tropics  was  just  beginning. 
Santarem  is  a very  small  settlement  at  the  confluence 
of  the  Rio  Tapajos,  and  here  begins  the  navigation 
of  the  river  by  steamboats.  When  I left  poor  Tom 
at  our  last  camp  I was  strong  and  healthy,  but  on 
reaching  here  I was  only  the  shadow  of  my  former 
self.  I was  worn  out  by  sorrow,  hardship  and  ma- 
laria. At  this  place  I found  a number  of  French 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


m 


merchants  and  agents  and  these  had  a benevolent 
society.  Seeing  the  condition  I was  in,  they  sent 
me  for  treatment  to  a small  hospital,  conducted  by 
Sisters  of  Mercy.  It  was  not  until  May,  1888,  that 
I was  discharged.  I tipped  the  scales  at  37  pounds 
heavier  than  when  I entered,  thus  giving  a vivid  idea 
of  what  a condition  I must  have  been  in.  I was 
dark  yellow,  only  skin  and  bone,  and  nearly  dead.  I 
found  that  to  reach  Diamontina,  the  place  where 
all  the  mines  were  located,  I would  have  to  travel 
overland  through  a wilderness  for  1,700  miles. 

I was  told  that  since  the  discovery,  syndicates 
had  bought  all  the  mining  lands,  and  were  using  West 
Indian  negroes  to  work  them.  So  I gave  this  scheme 
up  in  disgust,  and  all  the  hardships  and  dangers  were 
in  vain.  A German  steamboat  captain  offered  to 
pass  me  to  Para  for  my  work  on  the  way,  and  I 
accepted.  I was  glad  to  leave  this  inferno,  and 
nobody  could  imagine  how  I felt  when  our  paddle 
wheels  turned  and  I bid  my  last  farewell  to  the 
Samaritans  to  whom  I all  but  owed  my  life.  The 
River  Amazon  now  became  wider  and  wider,  and  at 
Atmeirim  we  could  not  see  the  other  shore.  When 
traveling  it  seemed  we  were  moving  on  a swiftly 
running  lake.  At  the  mouth  of  the  actual  Amazon, 
before  it  enters  the  Delta,  its  width  for  a distance  of 
three  hundred  miles,  is  eighty  miles  and  over,  the 
distance  from  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  to  Toronto,  Canada, 
and  thirty  miles  added. 

It  took  from  June  until  August  to  reach1  Para, 
the  harbor  of  export  for  the  immense  Amazon  basin. 
We  had  to  load  and  unload  at  nearly  every  place,  and 
had  almost  every  night  and  even  hours  after  day- 
break to  anchor  on  account  of  thick  fogs,  thus  tak- 


112  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

ing  this  long  time  to  travel  the  2,000  miles.  At  Para 
I made  many  friends  among  the  German,  American, 
English,  Spanish,  etc.,  export  houses,  all  engaged  in 
V handling  the  cocoa,  sugar,  vanilla,  mahogany,  ebony, 
palm  oil  and  a thousand  other  different  items  of 
export  and  import,  arriving  here  from  and  for  the 
interior.  As  the  local  papers  printed  my  story  I 
became  popular  in  a hurry,  and  all  vied  in  supply- 
ing me  with  everything  needed. 

I found  a job  as  steward  on  a small  coast  steamer 
which  made  trips  to  the  Guianas.  Our  first  port  of 
call  was  Cayenne,  the  capital  of  French  Guiana,  and 
also  the  seat  of  the  French  penal  colony.  All 
criminals,  convicted  of  grave  crimes  in  France  are 
deported  here.  On  a low  island  in  the  bay  was  the 
prison  where  Capt.  Dreyfus  was  confined  later.  The 
prisoners  endure  nameless  agonies — exiled  in  a dead- 
ly climate.  They  are  not  allowed  even  the  privilege 
of  writing  home,  complaining  about  their  hardships, 
as  I was  told  by  a guard  and  all  letters  are  inspected, 
and  the  punishment  to  do  so  is  being  staked — unable 
to  move — out  in  the  hot  sun,  eaten  nearly  alive  by 
the  myriads  of  crawling  and  flying  creatures,  for  a 
certain  number  of  hours.  They  have  only  to  wait 
until  the  fever  puts  an  end  to  their  sufferings  and  are 
soon  forgotten. 

The  next  harbor  we  made  was  Paramaribo,  the 
capital  of  Dutch  Guiana.  As  chance  would  have  it, 
I was  offered  a job  on  the  palatial  Hamburg-Ameri- 
can  liner  the  “Rio  de  la  Plata”,  bound  for  Rio  de 
Janeiro,  the  capital  of  Brazil.  The  first  stop  this 
steamer  made  was  at  Pernambuco,  where  for  the 
first  time  since  leaving  Mexico  I saw  a genuine  rail- 
road, a small  narrow-gauge  article  built  after  the 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


113 


German  pattern.  We  unloaded  a large  consignment 
of  German  merchandise,  and  took  on  nearly  a full 
cargo  of  coffee;  then  we  proceeded  to  Rio  de  Jan- 
eiro, reaching  there  after  two  weeks,  covering  a coast- 
line of  over  3,000  miles.  There  I received  my  dis- 
charge and  was  paid  10  milreis  ($5.00)  for  the  trip. 

I found  plenty  to  interest  me  in  beautiful 
“Rio”  as  it  is  called  by  the  Brazilians,  opera 
houses,  banks,  the  military  war  ships  in  the  harbor; 
fine  parks — in  fact  a European  metropolis.  Many 
Americans,  Germans,  Spanish  and  English  residents, 
and  also  several  genuine  American  tramps.  I met 
some  of  the  latter  again  in  the  States,  thus  plainly 
proving  that  they  are  not  “tied”  to  railroads  alone,  as 
means  of  travel.  I was  offered  different  jobs,  but 
being  restless  I wanted  to  work  the  people  first, 
before  the  people  worked  me.  But  all  fun  and 
pleasure  came  to  a sudden  end,  as  on  Christmas  day 
I was  conveyed  in  an  ambulance  to  a hospital,  suf- 
fering from  yellow  fever.  It  took  only  three  weeks 
to  be  discharged,  but  three  months  to  get  over  the 
after-effects,  showing  how  dangerously  near  I came 
to  dying.  People,  Europeans  especially,  were  dying 
like  flies,  there  being  over  2,000  funerals  from  Sep- 
tember till  May. 

On  May  1,  1890,  I stowed  away  in  an  Italian 
tramp  steamer  bound  to  Montevideo,  the  capital  of 
Uruguay.  The  reception  I received  when  I was 
discovered  I will  never  forget.  The  Italians  were 
nearly  wild.  Not  alone  would  they  have  to  lay  a 
month  in  quarantine,  if  it  was  known  that  they 
carried  a person  from  Rio  de  Janeiro  aboard,  but 
what  was  worse  yet,  they  feared  I would  give  them 
all  the  fever.  I could  not  understand  a word  of  their 


ii4  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

jabbering,  but  by  their  gesticulations  I could  only 
see  a choice  between  two  things — one  that  they 
would  throw  me  overboard;  the  other  that  they 
would  chuck  me  into  the  furnace  under  the  boilers 
alive.  They  proceeded  to  strip  me  of  all  my  clothes 
and  to  examine  them.  I was  almost  scared  to  death 
with  fear,  when  by  chance  they  found  the  rosary 
and  prayer  book  that  I had  promised  poor  Tom  to 
deliver  to  his  mother.  All  being  devout  Catholics, 
they  treated  me  more  kindly,  even  giving  me  the 
first  food  I had  tasted  in  three  long  days,  and  the 
way  I gobbled  up  the  macaroni  was  a caution.  After 
showing  them  that  I could  make  myself  useful  by 
shoveling  coal,  they  soon  were  my  friends.  When  we 
neared  Montevideo,  they  rowed  me  ashore,  and  by 
their  motions  gave  me  to  understand  that  they  would 
cut  me  up  if  I told  how  I reached  that  port. 

I had  to  walk  about  eighty  miles  before  reach- 
ing the  capital  of  Uruaguay,  a pretty  city  in  a cool 
latitude.  Here  again  Spanish  is  the  only  language 
spoken  and  I soon  forgot  my  faulty  Portugese. 
From  Montevideo  I reached  Buenos  Ayers,  the  cap- 
ital of  Argentina,  and  here  I found  many  Europeans 
and  Yankees.  After  loafing  around  for  a long  time 
I found  a captain  who  was  shipping  a motley  crew  as 
caretakers  on  his  steamer,  loaded  with  steers  for  Lon- 
don. No  experience  being  required,  I signed  a con- 
tract required  by  all  seagoing  nations,  except  the 
United  States;  I was  to  receive  40  shillings  ($10.00) 
on  arriving  in  London  as  wages.  This  money  came 
as  a windfall  and  thus  made  the  trip  far  more 
pleasant. 

We  sailed  down  the  smooth  Rio  de  la  Plata  to  its 
mouth,  and  then  crossed  the  storm-lashed  Atlantic 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


115 


Ocean  diagonally  from  south  to  north.  We  made 
a day’s  stop  at  Funchal,  the  port  of  the  Island  of 
Madera,  where  we  replenished  our  water  supply. 
Then  steaming  along  the  coast  of  Africa  and  Portu- 
gal until  we  reached  the  English  Channel,  about 
three  weeks  after  leaving  Argentina,  we  encountered 
a genuine  snowstorm  and  a terrific  gale — the  first 
genuine  snow  I had  encountered  since  leaving  the 
Andes  of  Ecuador  in  1887.  We  reached  London 
just  in  time  to  witness  a procession  of  Queen  Victoria 
going  to  open  her  Parliament. 

The  forty  shillings  I received  fixed  me  up  nicely, 
as,  of  course,  my  South  American  outfit  was  all  in 
rags.  An  employment  bureau  run  by  the  British 
government,  after  a while  found  me  a job  as  sailor 
on  a steamer  bound  for  New  York.  After  a trip  of 
another  thre£  weeks,  and  after  an  absence  of  nearly 
four  years,  I found  myself  again  on  my  native  soil, 
humming  sort  of  softly  “ My  Country  ’Tis  of  Thee”, 
satisfied  that  the  States,  after  all  my  own  experiences 
abroad,  was  the  only  country  where  a tramp  can 
tramp  like  a gentleman. 

I had  yet  the  rosary  and  small  prayer  book 
Tom  gave  me  when  he  died,  which  I had  promised  to 
deliver  to  his  mother  in  Pennsylvania.  I had  car- 
ried them  across  oceans,  and  now  when  I arrived  in 
New  York  City  I decided  to  fulfill  my  promise.  I 
railroaded  from  New  York  to  Harrisburg,  Pa.,  and 
after  a long  search  found  her  residence.  It  was 
early  in  the  morning,  when  knocking  on  the  door,  an 
old  white  haired  lady,  bent  with  years,  opened  the 
door  and  invited  me  into  the  parlor.  An  open 
Bible  was  on  a small  table,  showing  that  she  had 
just  been  reading  it.  She  kindly  asked  me  to  be 


116  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

seated.  It  was  my  intention  to  tell  her  my  errand, 
but  the  words  failed  me.  I didn’t  have  the  heart 
to  tell  her  how  poor  Tom  died  far  away  from  home, 
alone  with  me  in  the  wilderness  on  the  banks  of  the 
Amazon.  I told  her  only  I had  met  him  on  the 
wharves  of  Maracaybo,  Venezuela. 

“You  have  seen  Tom  alive?  My  boy  Tom, 
my  darling?”  She  would  not  believe  me,  and  I had 
to  describe  tattoo  marks;  had  to  tell  over  and  over 
stories  he  had  told  me,  that  only  she  could  know — 
stories  told  to  make  the  hours  on  our  long  journey 
pass  quicker.  I had  to  repeat  how  often  he  had 
spoken  of  his  mother.  Her  eyes  became  moist,  and 
she  fell  on  her  knees  and  prayed : “ She  had  waited 
three  long  years  in  vain;  three  long  years  to  hear 
from  her  Tom;  she  had  grieved  and  mourned  all 
these  years;  had  prayed  to  heaven  for  just  a little 
sign  from  him,  so  she  could  know  he  was  yet  alive, 
was  yet  speaking,  was  yet  loving  his  poor  widowed 
mother,  and  at  last  the  merciful  Father  had  sent  it, 
so  Tom  could  comfort  her  in  her  lonely  old  age.” 

All  this  I witnessed  and  the  tears  came  streaming 
down  my  cheeks.  I tried  to  be  brave  and  deliver 
those  only  tokens  of  a wandering  boy  to  his  old. 
widowed,  lonely  mother,  but  I couldn’t.  I thought 
too  much  of  her  myself  to  destroy  all  and  every  hope 
for  her.  She  wanted  me  to  stay  and  tell  her  more,  but 
I couldn’t.  So  bidding  her  farewell,  I left  the  house 
while  she  again  bent  her  knees  in  prayer. 

One  hour  later  I was  riding  on  a fast  freight 
train  toward  Erie,  Pennsylvania.  When  twenty- 
seven  miles  from  Harrisburg  our  train  stopped,  the 
engine  becoming  out  of  order.  While  we  were  stand- 
ing there  a light  engine  following  us  ran  into  the 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


117 


Her  eyes  became  moist,  and  she  fell  on  her  knees  and  prayed. 


118  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

caboose  of  our  train.  I heard  the  crash,  and  seeing 
the  splinters  fly,  hastened  back  to  see  the  cause. 
They  were  just  laying  the  conductor  of  our  train, 
the  only  person  in  the  caboose  on  the  grass.  He 
was  badly  mangled  but  still  alive.  The  trainmen 
flagged  a passenger  train  going  towards  Harrisburg 
on  the  second  track,  and  carefully  lifted  the  dying: 
man  into  the  baggage  car.  I volunteered  to  ac- 
company him,  and  as  I was  clothed  in  overalls,  they 
thought  I was  a railroad  "man  and  consented. 

While  the  train  was  flying  towards  Harrisburg, 
I heard  the  poor  mangled  conductor  say  to  the 
baggage-master:  “O,  John,  for  God’s  sake  do  a 
dying  man  a favor,  send  word  to  my  dear  old  mother 
that  I am  hurt.  Promise  to  do  so.  I will  die  more 
contented  as  I know  mother  will  grieve  if  she  is  not 
told  why  I can’t  come  home  again.”  A moment 
later  he  had  a hemorrhage,  convulsions  followed 
and  then  all  was  over. 

At  Harrisburg,  while  they  were  unloading  the 
remains,  I walked  quickly  to  Mrs.  Hanrahan’s  house, 
but  upon  reaching  it  I faltered.  While  waiting, 
undecided,  a policeman  passed  and  I stopped  him.  I 
handed  .him  poor  Tom’s  rosary  and  little  tattered 
prayer  book  and  told  him  the  pitiful  story  of  his 
death  in  the  South  American  wilderness.  Promis- 
ing he  would  deliver  those  tokens  of  love  to  the  poor- 
mother  and  break  the  sad  news  to  her  as  gently  as 
possible,  I watched  him  enter  the  humble  cottage, 
and  with  tears  streaming  down  my  cheeks,  sobbing 
broken-hearted,  I hastily  left,  not  wishing  to  add 
to  her  sorrows  by  another  meeting. 

That  very  hour  I bought  a memorandum  book 
and  wrote  my  mother’s  address  on  its  first  page. 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  tramp.  119 

I carry  this  little  book  at  all  times,  for  should  death 
overtake  me,  I know  there  will  be  one  poor  mother 
less  mourning  out  her  life  in  years  of  sorrow  and 
despair,  waiting  in  vain  for  a sign  of  life  from  her 
wandering,  wayward  boy. 


Chapter  XVII. 

“ Tramping  to  the  Klondike.” 

ALASKA’S  gold  discoveries  in  the  Klondike 
region  electrified  the  United  States  in  the  fall 
of  1896.  The  papers  were  full  of  stories  of 
how  poor  men,  who  were  lucky  enough  to  be  there 

when  the  places  were 
first  discovered,  had 
made  fortunes  in  al- 
most no  time.  They 
told  only  about  the 
gold,  but  never  of  the 
hardshipsencountered. 

In  the  spring  of  1897, 
I was  tramping  about 
the  country,  with  no 
intentions  of  leaving 
the  States.  Every- 
body was  talking  gold, 
and  at  many  places 
where  I stopped,  citi- 
zens were  making  up 
purses  to  send  young 
men  to  Alaska  to  try 
and  make  all  wealthy. 


120  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

Seattle,  Wash.,  in  those  days  was  the  out- 
setting  place  for  all  these  argonauts,  and  again  it  was 
the  first  port  the  miners  would  reach  when  return- 
ing to  the  States.  All  the  dailies  were  telling  of  the 
arrival  of  the  steamers  at  Seattle ; how  many  dollars’ 
worth  of  gold  dust  each  miner  had,  and  telling  how 
many  squandered  fortunes  in  a few  days  in  riotous 
living — fortunes  that  had  taken  long  years  of  hard 
labor,  under  the  hardest  kind  of  privations,  to  ac- 
cumulate. 

People  fitted  themselves  out  there  with  all  the 
things  it  takes  to  stay  a whole  year  or  even  longer 
inside  the  Artie  Circle  and  spent  their  money  freely, 
and  the  papers  were  full,  telling  how  prosperous 
times  were,  how  real  estate  bounded  upwards,  etc. 
It  was  enough  to  make  me  wish  to  go  there,  and  just 
see  that  lively  city  for  myself.  So  I left  Chicago 
for  St.  Paul.  There  I went  to  an  employment 
agency  that  hired  labor  for  railroads.  I told  them 
I wanted  a job,  and  for  one  dollar  (that  is  the  fee  they 
charge)  they  gave  me  a pass  to  Livingston,  Mont., 
890  miles  west,  and  an  order  entitling  me  to  work  on 
the  Northern  Pacific  at  two  dollars  a day.  These 
employment  agencies  are  all  over  the  West.  In  1899 
I was  shipped  for  three  dollars  from  Chicago  to  San 
Bemadino,  Cal.,  2,800  miles.  I was  to  take  the  job 
of  a striking  union  mechanic,  as  I told  the  agent  I 
was  a machinist.  In  1900,  I was  sent  from  Omaha, 
Neb.,  for  a fee  of  one  dollar  to  Burbank,  Cal.,  2,700 
miles,  to  work  in  a tunnel.  Of  course  only  a few 
out  of  a hundred  ever  go  to  work,  but  it  is  a good 
thing  for  a tramp  to  “railroad  it”  over  the  deserts, 
as  the  pass  entitles  him  to  a nice  soft  easy  seat  in  a 
coach,  and  often  on  a fast  train  at  that. 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


121 


I arrived  at  Livingston,  Mont.,  like  a gentleman ; 
then  I hit  the  brakes  again  and  reached  Helena, 
Mont.,  before  I was  “fired”.  The  next  morning, 
while  loafing  about  the  depot,  a special  train  pulled 
in  from  the  East.  It  stopped  here  to  change  crews 
and  engines,  and  I made  inquiries,  and  was  told  that 
this  special  had  a party  of  150  people  who  were  go- 
ing to  the  Klondike,  being  sent  there  by  different 
rich  companies  from  the  Eastern  States,  also  a num- 
ber of  newspaper  correspondents,  who  were  going 
to  have  a look  at  Alaska  and  write  up  the  place  for 
the  dailies.  Then  there  were  a lot  of  speculators, 
who  intended  to  buy  all  kinds  of  mines.  When  the 
special  pulled  out  of  the  station,  I was  on  top  of  one 
of  the  Pullman  sleepers,  perfectly  satisfied  thus  to 
travel  and  view  the  sights.  From  Helena,  Mont.,  to 
Tacoma,  Wash.,  it  is  800  miles,  and  for  450  miles  I 
was  not  discovered.  Then  while  taking  water  at  a 
lonely  tank  a brakeman  “spotted”  my  uppermost 
berth  and  ordered  me  to  vacate  my  pleasant,  cool- 
riding  place.  Climbing  down,  some  of  the  passengers 
remembered  having  seen  me  early  that  very  morn- 
ing in  Helena,  Mont.,  and  finding  that  I had  “hung 
on”  up  there  without  breakfast  or  dinner,  they  went 
into  their  dining  car  and  brought  me  a nice  lunch. 
By  this  time  the  brakeman  had  gone  towards  the 
front  of  the  train  and  had  forgotten  me,  so  when  the 
train  started  I made  a dash  underneath  and  seated 
on  a brake-beam  I was  soon  speeding  over  the  rails 
at  the  same  rate,  only  it  was  a little  more  jolting, 
dusty  and  dangerous  below  the  bottom  than  on  top 
of  the  Pullman. 

Being  a special  it  had  a “clear  track”  over  all 
other  trains,  and  by  the  time  it  reached  the  next 


122  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-ITO.  1, 

stop  it  was  dark.  Then  a few  of  the  passengers 
came  around  again  for  they  had  seen  me  dive  under 
the  car,  and  began  talking  to  me.  I had  eaten  all 
of  the  lunch  while  the  train  was  running,  and  while 
they  brought  me  some  drinking  water  one  of  them 
remarked:  “Say,  fellow,  going  to  Seattle?  Well, 
we  get  there  early  in  the  morning,  if  you  can  hold 
her  down  that  far,  I will  see  to  your  getting  your 
breakfast.”  Another  gave  me  fifty  cents  and  told 
me  that  I would  get  another  half  if  I “beat  her”  into 
Seattle. 

It  was  now  dark,  and  as  I enjoyed  the  breeze  on 
top  the  car  more  than  the  stones,  dirt  and  cinders 
underneath,  at  the  next  stop  I climbed  up  on  the 
upper  deck  again,  and  laid  myself  behind  a ventila- 
tor on  the  roof  of  the  dining  car,  and  thus  kept  the 
wind  from  bothering  me.  I was  soon  asleep,  dream- 
ing about  gold  and  the  Klondike,  never  thinking 
about  rolling  down  and  out,  wrecks,  low  tunnels  or 
accidents.  In  the  early  morning  the  train  reached 
Tacoma,  Wash.  The  next  place  we  stopped  was 
Auburn  Wash.,  a small  hamlet  where  we  had  to  wait 
two  hours  on  account  of  a freight  wreck.  I climbed 
down  from  up  stairs  and  found  many  gentlemen 
willing  to  treat  me  good.  They  called  me  their  mas- 
cot, gave  me  a nice  breakfast  and  made  up  a col- 
lection and  handed  me  nine  dollars.  I was  thankful 
enough  for  the  breakfast,  and  the  money  came  very 
handy.  One  of  the  donners  was  a Mr.  Herman 
Carpenter,  whom  a hop  merchant,  Mr.  Frank  D. 
Miller,  of  Oneonta,  N.  Y.,  had  sent  to  explore  for  him. 
We  reached  Seattle,  and  as  the  Steamer  “ Cleveland” 
was  not  due  to  sail  for  four  days,  everybody,  after 
seeing  their  baggage  aboard,  came  ashore  to  have 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


12S 


a good  time  before  leaving  for  the  cold,  bleak  Arctic 
region. 

In  this  way  I met  a good  many  of  the 
passengers  again,  and  heard  them  and  others  talk 
enough  of  the  Alaska  placers  to  give  me  the  gold 
fever,  and  when  the  above  mentioned  Mr.  Carpenter 
said  to  me : “ Say,  if  you  can  reach  Alaska  without 
any  expense  to  me  for  a ticket,  I will  look  out  for 
you.”  That  settled  it.  I had  the  gold  fever  sure, 
not  alone  because  there  was  a chance  to  get  rich,  but 
also  a chance,  that  I had  never  given  up  ever  since 
I promised  my  mother,  trying  to  stop  tramping,  and 
I had  an  idea,  that  if  I would  have  to  stay  nine 
months  in  one  place,  and  away  from  any  railroad,  I 
possibly  would  break  myself  of  the  tramping  habit. 

On  the  night  of  July  14,  1897,  the  “Cleveland”, 
with  400  passengers,  and  enough  freight  in  the  hold 
and  on  deck  to  nearly  sink  her,  left  the  wharf,  bound 
for  St.  Michaels,  Ala.,  which  is  situated  on  an  island 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Yukon  River,  where  she  would 
connect  with  one  of  the  large  stem-wheel  steam- 
boats of  the  Alaska  Commercial  Company,  for  Daw- 
son City  and  the  Klondike. 

I was  hidden  under  the  berth  in  Mr.  Carpenter’s 
cabin,  he  giving  me  food.  J was  dressed  in  the  very 
thinnest  of  summer  clothes  and  had  exactly  75  cents 
in  money  in  my  pocket ; but  I was  going  to  Alaska 
and  was  resolved  to  make  millions!  I laid  quietly 
underneath  the  berth  for  three  long  days  and  nights. 
When  over  400  miles  from  the  United  States’  boun- 
dary line  I made  my  appearance.  First  I hunted 
the  captain  and  told  him  how  I was  locked  up  in  the 
hold,  but  as  the  hatches  had  never  been  opened  since 
leaving  Seattle,  he  wouldn’t  believe  me,  and  started 


124  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

swearing,  seaman’s  fashion,  at  me  and  threatened 
to  throw  me  overboard  or  maroon  me  on  some  island. 

At  this  point  Mr.  Carpenter  came  in  with  this 
question : “ Say,  young  fellow,  are  you  not  the  same 
one  I saw  in  Tacoma?”  I answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, and  he  then  proceeded  to  tell  the  captain  how 
I had  beaten  my  way  on  their  special  train  for  over 
800  miles.  1 

I offered  to  work  for  my  passage,  but  he  already 
had  a dozen  working  their  trip,  so  he  gave  me  another 
hard  speech  and  told  me  that  I would  have  to  come 
back  from  Alaska  the  best  I could,  as  he  would  leave 
me  at  St.  Michaels.  I was  satisfied,  and  when  Mr. 
Carpenter  went  among  the  passengers  and  made  up 
a purse  of  $110,  and  besides  this,  he  and  others  gave 
me  a complete  Arctic  outfit,  I thought  I struck  an 
“ El  Dorado  ” sure  enough.  This  was  a prize  indeed, 
for  the  nights  were  getting  colder  and  colder  and  the 
days  longer.  At  lip.  m.  we  could  read  books,  and 
at  3 a.  m.  day  broke  again.  We  had  fair  weather 
all  the  way,  and  as  we  took  the  inside  passage  as  far 
as  Sitka,  Alaska,  with  the  mainland  on  one  side  and 
islands  on  the  other,  we  had  ocean  water  as  smooth 
as  a lake  for  nearly  800  miles.  On  the  mainland, 
the  snow  covered  Cascade  Range  and  the  enormous 
ice  walls  of  the  glaciers  that  extend  into  the  ocean, 
gave  us  an  idea  of  the  cold  that  we  would  have  to 
withstand  during  the  coming  winter. 

We  coaled  at  Juneau,  Alaska,  even  piling  coal  all 
over  our  decks,  and  wherever  there  was  an  open  space 
for  we  had  to  steam  2,000  miles  farther  before  reach- 
ing St.  Michaels,  the  next  coaling  station.  For  three 
long  weeks  we  steamed,  passing  through  the  Behring 
Straits,  the  Behring  Sea  into  the  Arctic  itself.  Ice- 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  tramp. 


125 


bergs  became  plenteous.  We  saw  seals,  ice  bears, 
different  kinds  of  birds  and  spouting  whales. 

At  St.  Michaels  our  trip  ended,  and  passengers 
as  well  as  cargo  were  unloaded  on  the  beach  with  the 
help  of  flat-bottomed  boats.  The  “ Cleveland  ” had, 
besides  400  passengers,  nearly  3,000  tons  of  cargo 
that  was  due  to  go  up  the  Yukon  on  one  of  the 
river  boats.  We  had  had  a long,  tedious  and  expen- 
sive trip,  and  to  everybody’s  consternation  it  was 
learned  that  the  boat  which  was  to  connect  with  our 
ship  had  sunk  200  miles  up  the  river.  In  those  days 
the  boats  were  not  as  numerous  on  the  Yukon  as 
they  are  now,  and  the  passengers  were  informed 
that  they  would  either  have  to  pay  $200  each  for 
passage  back  to  Seattle  or  winter  where  they  were, 
with  no  better  shelter  or  protection  than  the  govern- 
ment tents  would  offer. 

Of  our  four  hundred  passengers  only  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  had  funds  sufficient  to  pay  for  their 
return  passage,  the  others  had  only  their  tickets  to 
Dawson  City  and  very  little  money,  as  their  meals 
were  included  with  their  tickets,  and  would  have  heen 
sufficient  if  they  had  made  the  expected  connections 
with  the  wrecked  steamboat.  Now  their  only  choice 
was  to  stay  there  at  St.  Michaels,  in  the  Arctic  Ocean, 
as  they  could  not  possibly  find  transportation  until 
May,  when  the  river  would  open  again. 

I had  still  $60  and  my  nice  warm  suit,  but  that 
was  all;  nice  prospects  for  staying  in  a place  where 
an  egg  cost  one  dollar,  a loaf  of  bread  thirty-five 
cents,  a pound  of  bacon  a dollar  and  a half!  I tried 
to  induce  the  captain  to  carry  me  back  for  the  $60, 
but  he  was  sore  already  for  carrying  me  up  for  noth- 
ing and  he  enjoyed  nothing  better  than  seeing  me 


120  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

“get  it  good  and  plenty,”  as  he  expressed  himself. 
There  was  another  steamer  due,  the  “Corwin” 
that  was  to  bring  another  three  hundred  passengers, 
thus  making  the  outlook  darker  still. 

At  St.  Michaels,  besides  a government  post,  was 
a missionary  settlement.  These  owned  a small 
sternwheel  steamboat,  “The  Morning  Star”,  which 
they  used  in  summer  to  carry  supplies  to  their  dif- 
ferent missions  among  the  Esquimo  settlements  scat- 
tered along  the  bays  and  rivers  of  Alaska.  About 
thirty  passengers  finally  decided  to  contribute  $800 
a piece  for  the  purchase  of  this  boat.  Then  they  put 
in  a stock  of  provisions  sufficient  to  last  until  Spring. 
Their  intention  was  to  reach  the  Klondike  living 
aboard,  thus  paying  for  the  boat  with  what  their 
stay  in  camp  would  have  cost  them.  Mr.  Carpenter 
took  one  of  the  $800  shares  and  told  me  about  the 
deal  after  it  was  closed. 

The  boat  being  very  small  they  could  not  and 
would  not  take  another  soul  aboard  even  if  paid 
$10,000.  Outside  of  the  captain,  all  members  of 
the  crew  were  shareholders;  millionaires  cooking, 
reporters  'steering,  an  engineer  for  a gold  mining 
machinery  concern,  was  the  steamboat  engineer. 
Mr.  Carpenter  was  a waiter.  This  shows  how  close 
the  quarters  were,  and  yet  it  was  my  only  chance  to 
get  away  from  St.  Michaels.  I didn’t  care  where  I 
went,  just  so  I got  away  from  those  three  hundred 
passengers,  who  were  groveling,  kicking  and  growl- 
ing, and  were  about  ready  to  commit  suicide  all  in  a 
bunch. 

The  old  stern-wheel  boat  was  hardly  able  to 
steam,  was  leaking  badly,  was  old  and  worn,  still  it 
was  a boat — a heaven  compared  to  St.  Michaels. 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


127 


So  while  they  all  hustled  to  fit  her  out,  I helped  them 
and  kept  my  eyes  open  for  chances.  The  evening 
they  were  to  leave  I told  them  all  good-bye,  and 
they  felt  very  badly  to  see  me  being  left  behind.  I 
collected  about  $20  more  and  took  the  addresses  of 
each,  and  they  took  my  own  to  write  to  me.  In  fact 
Ibelieve  some  came  near  crying,  for  I had  been  their 
pet  ever  since  the  10th'  of  July,  and  it  was  now  the 
• 10th  of  September. 

Early  the  next  morning  they  were  to  depart, 
and  in  the  evening  they  held  a farewell  reception. 
At  7 p.  m.  while  all  were  making  plenty  of  noise  in 
the  cabin,  I sneaked  aboard  with  about  twenty  ship 
hardtacks  in  my  pockets  and  a large  jug  of  water, 
and  stowed  away  under  the  canvas  covering  of  the 
only  life  boat  aboard.  I could  hear  every  word  said 
in  the  cabin,  could  hear  them  laugh  and  crack  jokes 
until  I went  to  sleep.  Early  in  the  morning  the  old 
tub  blew  her  whistle  until  the  steam  nearly  gave  out 
in  farewell  to  the  rest  of  the  marooned  passengers. 
The  wheel  began  to  turn  and  slowly  and  shakily  we 
crept  away.  In  the  afternoon  by  peeking  from  under 
the  canvas,  I could  see  that  we  had  entered  the 
Yukon,  and  I then  ate  my  first  ship  biscuit  and  took 
a small  sip  of  water. 

In  this  way  I passed  five  days,  hardly  moving 
as  I lay  on  the  hard  boards  of  the  life  boat.  I en- 
joyed the  days  but  at  night  came  near  freezing  to 
death.  I had  a few  more  crackers  and  a little  water 
left,  which  I hoped  to  make  last  a few  days  longer, 
when  all  at  once  the  boat  gave  a lurch  and  then 
stopped  dead  still.  The  captain  miscalculated,  and 
had  the  boat  high  and  dry  on  a sand-bar  instead  of 
dn  the  channel  of  the  Yukon.  I didn’t  know  what 


128  Life  and  adventures  of  a-No.  l, 

had  happened,  but  at  break  of  day  they  came  to  fetch 
the  life  boat  to  use  it,  in  trying  to  pull  the  “ Morning 
Star  ’ ’ into  deep  water  again,  and  then  they  discovered 
my  hiding  place.  I expected  to  get  hurt,  but  they 
seemed  to  admire  my  pluck,  first  in  beating  the  rail- 
road special,  then  the  ocean  steamer  and  now  even 
their  rotten  old  river  boat,  and  after  looking  me  over 
to  make  sure  it  was  me  and  not  my  ghost,  they  all 
shook  hands  with  me  and  took  me  in  the  cabin  and 
gave  me  a square  meal,  the  first  one  in  six  days.  As  all 
knew  my  history  and  took  an  interest  in  me,  and 
as  I offered  to  work  and  help  all  in  my  power,  I soon 
had  the  best  of  treatment.  After  a few  hours  of 
hard  work  we  at  last  cleared  the  “Morning  Star’r 
and  proceeded  up  the  river. 

On  October  20,  1897,  just  as  we  reached  Fort 
Adams,  at  the  confluence  of  the  Koyokuk  River,  an 
arctic  storm  put  our  navigation  plans  to  a sudden 
end,  as  in  forty-eight  hours  it  froze  four  solid  inches 
of  ice  clear  across  the  river.  We  chopped  with  axes 
a channel  four  miles  up  to  the  Yukon  to  a high 
island,  and  there  protected  from  the  current  but  not 
from  the  arctic  gales  we  cabled  and  anchored  the 
“ Morning  Star  ” in  the  best  manner  possible.  There 
we  were,  630  miles  from  St.  Michaels  and  about  1000 
miles  from  Dawson  City.  We  were  not  much  better 
off  than  those  poor  fellows  we  left  behind  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Yukon.  All  hands  went  to  work  fix- 
ing up  for  the  long  arctic  winter,  millionaires,  corres- 
pondents, etc.,  were  cutting  cordwood,  covering  the 
cabin  with  tarpaulins  and  tarring  same,  closing  all 
windows,  cutting  and  pulling  to  pieces  old  rope  that 
after  being  dipped  into  boiling  tar  was  packed  into 
cracks  to  make  them  water  and  air  tight  as  well. 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


129 


Fifteen  of  our  more  daring  members  went  to  Fort 
Adams,  where  an  Esquimo  settlement  is  located, 
and  made  arrangements  to  be  taken  by  dog  sleds 
overland  to  Dawson  City,  1000  miles  in  the  interior. 
It  was  not  so  very  cold  yet,  and  even  now  (Nov.  1st) 
there  were  a few  short  hours  of  daylight,  so  with 
their  share  of  the  provisions,  and  with  many  bless- 
ings, they  set  out.  Mr.  Carpenter  left  our  boat  with 
the  Esquimo  expedition. 

The  days  became  shorter,  and  about  December 
1st,  we  saw  a little  daylight  for  the  last  time.  As 
soon  as  possible  we  cut  holes  in  the  ice  and  fished ; 
and  the  fish  thus  caught  gave  us  a welcome  change  in 
food,  but  later  on  the  ice  extended  nearly  to  the 
bottom  of  the  river.  Boiling  coffee  put  outside  of 
the  cabin  would  be  frozen  hard  inside  of  five  minutes. 
Chxistmas,  1897, the  thermometer  registered  63degrees 
below  zero.  We  only  left  our  shelter  when  we  had 
to  cut  wood.  We  had  nice  guns  and  rifles,  expect- 
ing to  find  plenty  of  game  in  the  interior,  but  only 
a few  hares  and  birds  were  shot,  and  we  had  to  live 
on  beans,  flour,  canned  meats,  fish,  barrel-pork  and 
beef.  About  January  15,  1898,  the  Esquimos  re- 
turned after  landing  our  members  safely  at  Dawson 
City,  and  told  us  tales  of  hard  times  there  on  account 
of  low  provisions  and  high  prices;  even  beans  were 
one  dollar  a pound  and  other  things  in  proportion. 

Where  at  first  we  had  fun,  played  games  and 
joked  and  tried  to  be  lively,  gradually  all  began  to 
be  more  quiet  and  languid.  The  long  dark  hours, 
nothing  but  the  stars  and  moon,  the  blinding  white 
snow  that  stung  the  eyes,  the  continuous  cold,  all  com- 
bined was  enough  to  make  the  liveliest  man  sad  and 
miserable.  Then  on  account  of  lack  of  vegetable 


130  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

diet,  about  the  first  of  March,  some  of  us  became 
victims  of  the  scurvy.  By  the  20th  of  March  all 
had  been  infected.  There  were  no  medicines,  as  in 
the  hurry  to  fit  the  boat  these  had  been  forgotten. 
At  Fort  Adams,  it  being  a small  Esquimo  settlement, 
they  had  none,  but  at  Fort  Yukon,  590  miles  farther 
up  the  river,  the  Alaska  Commercial  Company  had 
a large  post  and  all  supplies,  and  the  only  hope  to 
save  the  lives  of  all  was  to  try  and  reach  that  place. 
I volunteered  to  go  with  an  Esquimo  and  try  and 
procure  the  only  known  specific — citric  acid,  and 
thus  save  my  own  life,  as  well  as  those  of  the  others. 
My  own  condition  was  something  awful ; my  jaws 
were  swollen  so  that  I could  not  even  close  my 
mouth,  and  the  fever  nearly  set  me  crazy.  Still 
for  twenty-two  days,  or  rather  twenty-two  arctic 
nights,  on  a sled  drawn  by  three  dogs,  with  an  Es- 
quimo for  a driver,  against  the  cold  arctic,  far  below 
zero  weather,  with  just  enough  provisions  to  reach 
Fort  Yukon,  sleeping  in  bags  made  by  Esquimo,  wo- 
men from  walrus  skin,  and  stuffed  with  the  fine 
feathers  of  the  arctic  goose,  I made  the  journey. 

We  had  snow  three  and  four  feet  deep.  The 
dogs  would  scratch  shallow  holes  in  the  snow  to  lie 
in,  and  after  racing  all  day  would  quarrel  and  fight 
as  bad  as  ever. 

When  we  reached  Fort  Yukon  I was  unable  to 
say  a word,  and  the  Esquimo  had  to  deliver  the  mes- 
sage for  help.  When  I left  the  boat  my  hair  was 
jet  black,  and  now  only  twenty-two  days  later  it  had 
turned  gray,  such  were  my  sufferings  on  that  trip. 
For  a couple  of  hours  I sat  silent,  and  they  pumped 
medicines  into  me,  but  the  trip  was  too  much,  and 
I was  so  far  gone  that  I became  unconscious  and  for 


America’s  Most  celebrated  Tramp. 


131 


several  weeks  raved  before  I began  to  improve.  The 
Alaska  Company  had  sent,  in  the  meantime,  med- 
icines and  a doctor  back  to  the  boat,  and  when  he 
returned  later  the  tale  of  suffering  that  the  others 
had  undergone  was  shocking.  Two  had  already 
died,  and  their  corpses  laid  in  the  cabin,  as  the  others 
were  too  weak  even  to  remove  them.  With  the  aid 
of  medicine  the  rest  were  saved. 

In  the  middle  of  April  an  Esquimo  came  from 
Fort  Adams  bringing  me  a letter  and  in  it  an  order 
for  the  Alaska  Company  to  pay  me  $100,  this  amount 
having  been  made  up  among  the  thirteen  survivors 
of  the  “Morning  Star”.  Further  they  sent  me  an 
address  thanking  me  for  saving  their  lives.  This 
address  I have  to  this  day. 

■The  “Morning  Star”  share-holders  had  worse 
luck,  for  when  in  May  the  ice  of  the  Yukon  began  to 
move,  the  boat  being  frozen  into  a large  cake,  simply 
broke  the  cables  and  started  to  drift  down  the  swol- 
len current,  and  was  caught  in  an  ice  jam  and  crushed 
like  an  eggshell;  the  men  aboard  having  only  time 
to  save  themselves. 

I left  Fort  Yukon  on  the  13th  of  May,  1898, 
and  walked  up  the  river  bank  to  Dawson  City,  375 
miles.  At  Dawson  there  was  not  any  gold,  and  I 
had  to  walk  twenty  miles  to  Discovery  Creek  before 
I saw  the  first  gold  placer  mines — holes  sometimes 
twenty  feet  deep  cut  into  the  hard  frozen  ground, 
and  by  burning  cordwood  on  the  bottom  they  loosen- 
ed the  pay  gravel  sufficiently  to  be  hoisted  in  small 
pails  to  the  surface. 

I picked  small  nuggets  from  the  dumps,  but 
nearly  all  the  gold  was  as  fine  as  flour.  There  was 
not  a job  to  be  bought,  as  all  work  is  done  during  the 


132  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1, 

cold  weather  and  in  the  summer  the  gravel  is  washed. 
Gravel  that  it  took  ten  months  to  dig  and  hoist  is 
washed  inside  a single  week.  Disgusted  with  gold, 
Alaska  and  myself,  I went  back  to  Dawson,  just  in 
time  to  see  the  first  mail  brought  in  over  the  Chil- 
coot  Pass  from  Sitka,  Alaska,  and  the  way  those  be- 
whiskered  men  cried  and  acted  when  they  opened 
letters  that  were  all  the  way  from  three  to  nine 
months  old;  how  they  showed  them  to  each  other, 
how  strangers  read  each  others  letters;  how  they 
hugged  and  kissed  them  and  acted  like  children  was 
a sight  indeed. 

Here  at  Dawson,  I met  Mr.  Carpenter  again. 
He  had  just  returned  from  the  Copper  River  district, 
where  there  was  a rush  of  prospectors,  as  the  rumor 
was  that  gold  placers  had  been  discovered  there. 
As  my  money  was  nearly  gone,  Mr.  Carpenter  ad- 
vised me  to  return  to  the  States  and  see  his  backer, 
Mr.  Frank  D.  Miller,  at  Oneonta,  N.  Y.,  and  said: 
“If  I strike  it  rich,  he  must  send  help  to  me,  and 
as  you  have  been  here,  and  furthermore  have  no  one 
depending  upon  you,  he  surely  will  give  you  the  first 
chance.” 

I thought  his  idea  a good  one,  and  the  next  day, 
the  first  of  June,  1898,  I set  out  to  reach  Seattle, 
1,800  miles  away,  and  then  Oneonta,  N.  Y.,  3,200 
miles  farther — 5,000  miles  in  all,  with  only  four 
dollars  and  twenty  cents  in  my  pockets  and  a bag 
full  of  provisions  slung  over  my  shoulder.  I walked 
over  the  trail  to  Fort  Selkirk,  from  there  to  Lake 
Labarge.  Here  on  a couple  of  logs  tied  together  by 
a rope  and  equipped  with  a pole  for  a mast,  and  a 
couple  of  potato  sacks  held  together  by  a few  thorns 
for  a sail,  I traveled,  propelled  by  a strong  wind, 


America’s  Most  Celebrated  Tramp. 


133 


twenty-eight  miles  in  eight  hours.  I had  covered 
in  twenty  days  nearly  530  miles,  and  now  climbed 
over  the  Chilcoot  Pass,  about  3000  feet  above  the 
sea  level,  and  reached  the  summit  on  the  morning 
of  June  22,  1898,  to  see  the  Pacific  Ocean  for  the 
first  time  since  I left  St.  Michaels. 

It  was  twenty-eight  steep  miles  down  hill,  and 
when  I reached  Dyea,  Alaska,  I was  told  that  if  I 
could  reach  Sitka  where  there  is  a coaling  station, 
I would  have  a better  chance  to  get  back  to  the 
States.  I did  not  have  a single  cent,  but  that 
evening  I unhooked  a small  Esquimo  canoe  and 
with  a piece  of  barrel  stave  for  a paddle  I crossed 
the  channel,  forty  miles  wide,  to  the  island  on  the 
other  side  of  which  Sitka  was  situated.  I reached 
there  the  next  evening  after  paddling  forty  miles 
and  walking  ten  miles  without  a bite  or  rest. 

Sitka  is  a large  settlement  and  as  plenty  of 
miners  returning  from  the  Klondike  landed  here 
and  spent  their  money  I soon  forgot  my  past 
experiences.  I stopped  here  for  two  weeks, 
resting  up  the  best  I could.  I still  had  the 
address  with  the  resolutions  from  the  members  of  the 
“ Morning  Star”  on  it,  and  everybody  helped  me  who 
read  it.  I found  a chance  to  return  to  Seattle  on  a 
sailing  ship,  working  for  my  passage.  On  the  15th 
of  July,  1898,  just  an  even  year  after  leaving  Seattle, 
I reached  there  again  in  the  middle  of  an  almost 
tropical  hot  summer,  without  a cent  and  dressed  in 
my  rough  and  heavy  arctic  clothes,  with  absolutely 
nothing  to  show  for  a long  year  of  the  roughest 
and  hardest  of  adventures ; gray  and  aged  with  only 
the  satisfaction  that  I was  yet  alive.  The  old  say- 
, ing:  “A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss”  was  vividly 


134  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A-NO.  1, 

illustrated  to  me,  and  any  person  would  have  thought 
that  after  such  hardships  and  privations  I would 
have  had  enough,  but — 

The  very  next  day  after  I landed  in  Seattle, 
and  after  I went  among  the  private  residences  and 
had  hustled  something  like  civilized  clothes  for  my- 
self, I started  East,  via  the  Northern  Pacific. 
Three  weeks  after  I left  the  Pacific  coast  I climbed 


up  the  stairs  and  knocked  at 
the  door  of  Mr.  Frank  D. 
Miller’s  office.  I told  him 
how  I left  Mr.  Carpenter 
in  Dawson,  and  that  I 
would  tramp  it  to  Alaska 
again  if  he  would  only 
promise  m^  employment 
when  I arrived  there. 
“Say”,  Mr.  Miller  asked 
me,  “did  you  Jiave  your 
dinner?”  I hadn’t,  and 
told  him  so.  He  handed 
me  a dollar  and  said : 
“ You  come  back  here  the 
first  of  October  and  I will 
see  what  I can  do  for  you.” 
I earned  a few  dollars 
and  promptly  returned  to 
Mr.  Miller  by  mail  the  money 
he  gave  me.  When  I re- 
turned the  next  fall  to 
Oneonta,  N.  Y.,  he  did  not 
yet  have  a job  for  me  in 
the  Klondike,  but  as  I was 
dead-broke  as  usual,  he 


*1  arrived  in  Seattle,  Wash.,  in 
the  middle  of  a tropical  summer, 
dressed  in  Arctic  clothes.” 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP. 


135 


handed  me  another  dollar,  but  this  time  he  said : 
“Look  here,  A-No.  1,  why  don’t  you  save  a 
little  spare  money  so  that  you  will  have  funds  to 
fall  back  upon  should  you  take  sick,  or  become  crip- 
pled by  some  accident,  as  has  happened  to  so  many 
poor  fellows  ? It  seems  hard  for  you  to  do  so,  doesn’t 
it?  But  it’s  not  half  so  hard  as  it  looks  when  you 
once  get  started.  Send  me  your  surplus  money  and 
I will  keep  it  for  you,  and  you  can  have  it  any  mo- 
ment desired.” 

On  this  suggestion  I acted.  It  was  a hard  mat- 
ter, and  after  six  months,  when  I returned  to  One- 
onta  I found  I had  only  saved  nine  dollars.  In  the 
coming  fall  I had  the  munificent  sum  of  seventeen 
dollars  to  my  credit ; a year  after  this,  the  sum  be- 
came so  large  that  I deposited  it  in  a savings  bank. 

Mr.  Carpenter  returned  from  Alaska  in  the  fall 
of  1899,  not  having  made  a cent  in  the  Klondike, 
and  besides  having  lost  his  health. 

Thus  a kind  Providence  had  turned  all  the 
hardships  and  dangers  that  I passed  through  since 
childhood  to  final  advantage,  for  through  the  acts 
of  Mr.  Frank  D.  Miller,  it  taught  me  something  far 
better  than  any  Alaska  gold  mine.  It  showed  me  a 
way,  not  alone  to  save  money,  but  by  doing  so,  to 
gain  the  estimation  of  my  fellow  beings,  something 
that  I had,  up  to  that  moment,  thought  to  be  im- 
possible to  attain  for  those  who  follow  the  road  of 
“The  Restless”,  and  made  it  possible  for  me  to  be 
proud  of  my  record,  even  when  I am  called  in  dis- 
dain— “a  tramp.” 


136  Life  and  Adventures  of  A-No.  1/ 


Chapter  XVIII. 

“ Conclusion.” 

WITH  this  description  of  my  trip  to  the  Alaska 
gold  discoveries,  I have  told  the  most  inter- 
esting part  of  my  foreign  tramping  journeys. 
To  give  a narrative  of  the  adventures  I encountered 
on  my  other  trips,  six  different  ones  to  Europe,  one 
each  to  Japan,  West  Indies,  China,  New  Zealand,  etc., 
would  be  to  a large  extent  a repetition  of  the  ex- 
periences already  narrated  in  this  book,  and  it  would 
be  only  tempting  the  patience  of  my  readers  to  do  so. 

For  over  a quarter  of  a century  I have  now  led 
this  hard  and  thankless  life,  a nameless  wanderer, 
driven  on  by  an  irresistible  longing  to  rove,  and  dur- 
ing all  these  years  I have  tried  to  do  the  “square 
thing”  by  all  who  befriended  me  the  least,  never 
forgetting  any  kindness  done  me;  never  having 
touched  liquor  and  tobacco,  nor  gambled,  and  if  I 
have  done  wrong  (outside  of  beating  the  railroads) 
I am  sure  I have  more  than  evened  this  score  a 
hundred-fold  by  doing  good  to  those  less  fortunate, 
and  I have  documents  from  different  railroad  com- 
panies, thanking  me  for  having  prevented,  at  the 
risk  of  my  life  and  limbs,  over  twenty  different 
wrecks,  etc.,  etc. 

Many  times  in  my  wanderings,  strangers  as 
well  as  acquaintances,  interested  in  the  tramp  prob- 
lem, have  asked  me,  “What  is  the  reason,  ‘ A-No.  1,’ 
that  you  should  tramp?”  I will  confess  here  that  I, 


AMERICA’S  MOST  CELEBRATED  TRAMP.  137 

a sane  man,  with  such  a talent  for  sculpturing,  that 
a few  lessons  would  not  only  bring  me  a famous  name, 
but  easy  fortune  as  well,  with  the  ability  to  carve  the 
most  beautiful  as  well  as  the  most  ugly  images  out 
of  wood  or  vegetables,  with  none  of  the  bad  habits 
that  nearly  every  tramp  is  a victim,  with  the  ability 
to  fead,  write  and  speak  French,  German,  Spanish 
and  English  languages  fluently — yet  I cannot  stop, 
in  spite  of  all  the  numerous  attempts  to  conquer 
the  “Wanderlust”!  Ask  any  other  victim  of  this 
strange  malady — tramp,  commercial  traveler,  rail- 
road man,  circus  follower,  etc.,  and  all  these  will  attest 
to  the  very  same  inability  to  shake  off  the  desire  to 
wander. 

During  all  these  long  years  of  restless  roving,  I 
have  carried  a small  memorandum  in  which  I have 
kept  a list  of  the  many  humoristic,  as  well  as  pathetic 
experiences,  which  can  happen  to  no  other  class  of 
human  being  but  the  homeless,  wandering  tramp, 
and  I will  publish  these  under  the  title  of  “ Confes- 
sions of  A-No.  1,”  and  sincerely  hope  that  this 
book  also  will  have  the  approval  of  the  reading 
public.  In  this  memorandum  I have  kept  an  exact 
account  of  every  mile  I have  tramped  from  the  first 
day  I “hit”  the  road  on  the  24th  of  August,  1883, 
and  the  total  mileage  on  the  1st  of  May,  1910,  was 
471,215  miles,  and  my  cash  expenditures  for  trans- 
portation, exclusive  of  unavoidable  street  car  and 
ferry  boat  charges  were  $7.61. 


THE  END. 


■ 


“ Ready  for  the  Road.” 


•Vf-.-’fc 


